Yama — who had once described a human death as "efficient" was experiencing something entirely new. Something cringe.
You...You really do have something wrong with your head, you know that?
Maya turned the page. "I know very well."
Under the bed, Fahish watched the shadow of Fahim's face grow larger. Closer. His heartbeat pounded so loudly that he was convinced everyone in the room could hear it.
Please stop, just pick them up. Don't look any farther...He flattened himself against the floor until his back almost hurt.
There was barely enough clearance beneath the bed. Even breathing felt dangerous, one careless inhale, one movement, one involuntary cough ....
And everything would be over.
Inside the wardrobe, the cramped space had become unbearable. Fahan's shoulder was pressed firmly against Fahad's. Neither had enough room to shift even a centimeter.
The faint scent of cedar from the wardrobe mixed with the uncomfortable awareness that they were hiding like children.
Fahan slowly turned his eyes toward Fahad.The elder brother remained perfectly expressionless.
If dignity had a physical form...it had abandoned him several minutes ago.
Fahan almost smiled despite himself. A famous International business executive, currently hiding in a wardrobe. If the board of directors could see this....
The thought nearly made him laugh. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep silent.
Fahim extended his arm farther beneath the bed, "Just a little farther ....." The sleeve of his shirt brushed the edge of the bedframe.
His fingers missed the glasses by barely a fingertip, "Interesting." He leaned even lower.
His one eye was almost level with the darkness beneath the bed. Under the bed...Fahish's pupils shrank, every muscle in his body locked. Another inch.That was all it would take.
One more inch. And Fahim would be looking directly into his eyes. Fahim's fingertips finally hooked around the temple of the spectacles, "There we are."
With a smooth motion, he drew the glasses out from beneath the bed. Fahish stared at the empty space where the glasses had been.
For a heartbeat, he couldn't believe it. A wave of relief crashed over him so suddenly that every muscle in his body seemed to melt.
He silently closed his eyes. Saved. Saved. He resisted the overwhelming urge to sigh. Even that felt too dangerous.
Instead, he loosened the death grip he had on his own sleeve, his heartbeat, which had been pounding like a drum, gradually began to settle.
I am Fahish Sunayana. I sketch. I write. I observe life from a respectable distance. And yet here I am. Beneath my sister's bed. Listening to my brother look for his glasses.
Wondering if this is how my life ends—not in glory, not in tragedy, but in silent humiliation beneath a bed frame.
If Fahish finds out about this — no. He cannot find out. No one can find out. This moment will die with me. I will carry it to my grave. I will —
Wait..Wait, IfI made it out of this room unnoticed, I would never, under any circumstances — hide under a bed again.
He silently swore an oath to himself. Maya's page turned, she noted in the quiet catalog of her mind:
Mr. Fahim is on the floor.....Mr. Fahish is under the bed. Mr. Fahad and Mr. Fahan are in the wardrobe. And Mr. Faha has already escaped. Four out of five. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Fahim held the glasses up to the sunlight, turning them slowly between his fingers. He examined them like a scientist might examine a specimen. "No cracks. That's good."
Then — he reached into his pocket. His fingers emerged a moment later holding a small, neatly folded square of microfiber cloth.
He unfolded it with the same unhurried care he applied to everything. His hand moved in slow, practiced circles.
Inside the wardrobe, the air had grown thick with the scent of cedar and the suffocating weight of humiliation. Fahan's shoulder was still pressed against Fahad's.
Fahan's brow furrowed, he leaned closer : "Why is he cleaning his glasses now?"
Fahad did not look at him. He simply closed his eyes — slowly as though the answer required a moment of surrender, then said emotionlessly, "Because he's Fahim."
Fahan stared at him. Of course. Of course Fahim would stop in the middle of a crisis to clean his glasses.
Fahan pressed his lips together and looked away, his shoulders trembling with the effort of silence.
Beneath the bed, the world was narrower.
Fahish's expression shifted imperceptibly. His eyebrows drew together. His lips parted, then closed again. Seriously...?
He turned his head — just slightly, just enough — and peered toward the edge of the bed. Through the narrow slit of light between the bedframe and the floor.
He's polishing them. He's actually polishing them. Right now. While I'm lying under a bed.
Fahish closed his eyes.
This family is insane. Every single one of us and I am the most insane of all because I am lying here in the dark, cataloguing the insanity instead of escaping it.
He exhaled. The whisper of the cloth continued.
And in the armchair by the window, Maya turned another page.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Fahim finished cleaning the first lens. Then the second. He held the glasses toward the light. "Excellent."
Just as he lifted them to put them back on —
Knock...Knock. The sound echoed through the room.
Fahim froze. The glasses remained suspended in midair.
"..."
Another knock followed. Knock. Knock. For the first time that morning, the analytical scientist visibly flinched. His eyes slowly turned toward Maya.
There was an unmistakable Request in them.
HELP.
Maya closed her documentary around one finger to keep her place. She looked at him for a brief moment. Then, without a word she lifted one hand and pointed toward the bed.
Fahim blinked, "Under... there?"
Maya gave the smallest nod. There was no time for discussion. Another knock sounded. Without another word, he immediately dropped to one knee.
Then another, with far less elegance than he would ever admit later, he carefully slid beneath the large bed.
The moment his head disappeared underneath,
He stopped. Someone was already there,Fahish. The brothers stared at one another in complete silence.
"..."
Fahish sighed quietly, "Welcome, brother."
Fahim blinked once. Then slowly turned his head toward the wardrobe.
From the narrow gap beneath its doors, he could clearly see two pairs of shoes. He didn't need to guess whose they were. Fahim closed his eyes for exactly three seconds.
When he opened them again, he spoke in the calmest voice imaginable. "I acknowledge reality."
Fahish raised an eyebrow, "...Meaning?"
Fahim let out the faintest sigh."It appears that I am hiding under my little sister's bed..while two of my brothers are hiding inside her wardrobe ."
He paused. "...This was not how I expected my morning to unfold."
Oh, this is precious. Look at them. Look at all of them. Five of the most powerful men in this city. Five Sunayana heirs. And where are they!!
A delighted laugh echoed through the garden of Maya's mind — the endless field of spider lilies swaying gently in a wind that did not exist.
And they call this family powerful. They call this family untouchable. They sit in boardrooms and make decisions that affect millions of people. And yet —
Her smile sharpened. And you're supposed to belong to them? You're supposed to call them brother?
Under any other circumstances...Fahish would have laughed. Instead, both of them remained perfectly still.
Outside, Maya reopened her documentary. She turned another page as though nothing at all were unusual. Knock...Knock...Knock.
Maya calmly looked up from her documentary.
"Come in."
The door opened. Ohi walked in first, his usual polished confidence wrapped around him like a well-tailored coat. One hand was tucked casually into his pocket.
Behind him came Nahi, whose grin suggested he was enjoying himself far too much. He walked with his shoulders loose.
Naya entered last, carrying herself with her usual graceful composure — spine straight . Her eyes moved across the room with quiet precision and for just a moment — just a flicker, they paused on the wardrobe.
"Good morning, little sister," the three of them said together.
Maya inclined her head, the same measured gesture she gave everyone. "Good morning, Miss Naya. Good morning, Mr. Ohi. And good morning, Mr. Nahi."
Nahi's grin widened. "You know, you don't have to call us 'Mr.' and 'Miss.' We're your cousins."
"I know, Mr. Nahi."
Nahi blinked, then let out a short laugh. "Okay. That's — yeah. That's fair."
The room seemed perfectly ordinary. If only they knew, Inside the wardrobe Fahad stood straight as a statue. Beside him, Fahan was practically holding his breath.
Under the bed...Fahim and Fahish lay completely still. Four grown men hidden inside the bedroom.
Ohi, meanwhile had drifted further into the room. He walked slowly, his eyes moving across the table where the gifts sat in a neat row.
"So, Any particular reason there's a mountain of gifts on your table? Or should we pretend we didn't notice?"
Nahi leaned toward the table, squinting at the boxes. "Wait — I recognize that wrapping paper. That's the one Faha uses. The fancy one with the —"
He stopped. His grin grew impossibly wider. "Oh. Oh, this is beautiful." Ohi held up a hand. "Nahi. Don't."
"I'm just saying —"
"Don't."
Naya sighed softly, but there was amusement curling at the edge of her lips. "Both of you. Behave."
Nahi turned toward Maya, still grinning. "Okay, okay. Serious question. Did any of our beloved brothers happen to visit you this morning? Say — in the last hour? Maybe less?"
Maya looked at him for a moment. "Yes. They came." Nahi's eyes lit up. "They did?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
Maya turned a page. "Five."
Ohi's eyebrows rose — just slightly , before he smoothed his expression back into something neutral. "Five," he repeated. "Interesting."
Nahi's grin threatened to split his face. "Five out of six. Which means one of them—" He paused.
"You know, I find it very strange that none of them are here anymore ..... They came, they delivered their gifts and they just — left. Quietly. Without saying goodbye."
He tilted his head. "That doesn't really sound like our brothers, does it?"
Ohi glanced at him, a warning in his eyes. Nahi ignored it completely. "Unless," Nahi continued, "they didn't actually leave."
Inside the wardrobe, Fahan's breath caught in his throat. Fahad stood motionless. Under the bed, Fahish closed his eyes and silently began to compose his final words.
Naya, standing near the window, let her gaze drift slowly, deliberately — toward the wardrobe. Then toward the bed. Then back to Maya.
A faint smile touched her lips."Nahi don't you think you're jumping to conclusions?"
"I'm not jumping," Nahi said, still grinning. "I'm observing. There's a difference."
Ohi rubbed his temple with two fingers. "You're impossible."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
Ohi turned back toward Maya as though trying to redirect the conversation to safer ground. "So — what are you reading?"
Maya glanced at the book in her lap. "A world history. Civilizations. Their rise and fall."
"Ah." Ohi nodded. "Heavy reading for a morning."
Nahi flopped down on the edge of the armchair across from her, completely at ease. "History . You know, I hated history in school. Too many dates. Too many dead people."
Naya smiled. "I'm an history major, actually. Well —I studied it before I joined the Fashion Design major." She tilted her head.
"So, If you ever need help with anything, a book recommendation, a topic you're stuck on—just tell me. I'd be happy to help."
Maya gave a small nod. "Alright. Thank you, Miss Naya." "Just Naya," Naya said gently. "Please."
Maya said nothing. But she did not correct her either.
Nahi, meanwhile, had grown restless. He was still half-perched on the edge of the chair, his eyes darting — just slightly.
"So. Just to be clear. If, hypothetically, someone were hiding in this room right now — say, in a wardrobe, or under a bed — would you tell us?"
Maya turned a page. "No." Nahi's grin returned, brighter than ever. "I like you."
Ohi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nahi—"
"What? She's honest. I respect that."
"You're going to get us killed."
"By who? The wardrobe? The bed?"
Naya let out a soft laugh. "Alright, alright I think we've tormented our little sister enough for one morning. Come on, both of you. Before Aunt Mahi sends someone to drag us down."
They filed out — But just before Naya stepped through the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder — not at Maya but at the room itself.
A small, knowing smile curved her lips. Then she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Somewhere in the back of Maya's mind, Yama's voice curled through the silence like smoke. Oh, Oh, this family. This beautiful, ridiculous, utterly insane family. I think I'm starting to like them.
The moment the door clicked shut, the room seemed to exhale.
Inside the wardrobe, Fahan's shoulders dropped so suddenly that he nearly knocked his head against the wooden panel behind him. He let out a breath he had been holding for what felt like an eternity.
A shaky, silent exhale that carried every ounce of the humiliation he had endured in the last twenty minutes. "That was the closest I have ever come to dying."
Beside him, Fahad did not move. His eyes were still fixed on the narrow strip of light beneath the wardrobe doors, his expression unreadable.
"They knew," Fahan muttered. "They knew the whole time."
"They suspected," Fahad corrected quietly. "There's a difference."
"You sound like Ohi." Fahan let out a breathless laugh. "I can't believe I let you pull me in here."
"You didn't let me. I pulled you."
"Same thing."
Beneath the bed, Fahish had pressed his hands against his face and was now staring up at the underside of the mattress as though it held the answers to every question he had ever asked.
"I survived, I actually survived."
Beside him, Fahim lay perfectly still, his glasses now restored to their rightful place on his nose, his hands folded across his chest as though he were lying in a coffin. "You are being dramatic."
"I am being accurate."
"You are being dramatic."
Fahish turned his head toward his brother. "You cleaned your glasses . While I was lying here, convinced my life was about to end."
"That is correct."
"Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?"
"No, I was focused on the glasses."
Fahish closed his eyes. "I hate you. I am going to write about this. In painful detail. And I am going to make you the villain."
"I look forward to reading it."
Just as the last of the tension began to drain from the room—the door opened again.
Fahan froze mid-breath. Fahad's eyes snapped toward the gap beneath the wardrobe doors.
Under the bed, Fahish's entire body went rigid, and Fahim's hand, still resting on his own chest, stopped moving entirely.
Naya stepped inside.
She moved quietly as she always did but there was something different about her now, almost apologetic in the way she held herself, "Maya..."
Maya looked up from her documentary. "...Yes?"
"I'm sorry to bother you again. Truly, I am but I've just remembered something. I need one of your shawls. Just for a moment. I left mine in another room, and I don't want to walk all the way back."
Fahad's composed face remained expression -less but the tiny twitch near his eye betrayed him. Fahan mouthed silently,"..We're finished."
Fahad slowly closed his eyes.For perhaps the first time in his life,he had absolutely no strategy.
Maya closed her documentary around one finger. She looked at Naya for a long, quiet moment. "I'll send it to you later, Miss Naya."
"It's all right. I'll just borrow one for a moment. I'll bring it back tomorrow — I promise."
"Not right now, Miss Naya."
Naya tilted her head, her smile softening into something almost playful. "I'm sorry but I really do need it now."
A pause. Then she added, "I'll return it tomorrow. I promise."
Inside the wardrobe, Fahan's eyes went wide. He turned toward Fahad, his lips forming a silent question: Is she—?
Fahad did not answer. His gaze was fixed on the gap beneath the doors, watching the shadow of Naya's feet as they moved unhurriedly, across the floor.
Under the bed, Fahish had stopped breathing entirely. Fahim, beside him, closed his eyes.
Naya took one small step closer to the wardrobe.
"I won't take long," she said sweetly. "I just need one. Any one."
Maya set her documentary down on the arm of the chair. She folded her hands in her lap. And for the first time all morning, she looked at Naya — truly looked at her.
"No, not right now. Miss Naya."
"I understand," Naya said, she turned toward the door. Then, just before she stepped out — she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Tell my brothers that I hope they're comfortable. Very comfortable, preferably. They seem to have settled quite nicely into their mysterious base." She stepped out.
Inside the wardrobe, Fahan's blood ran cold. he simply stood there, staring at the thin strip of light beneath the doors as though it had just become a guillotine.
She knows . She knows exactly where we are. She's known the whole time. She didn't come back for a shawl. She came back to make sure we knew that she knew.
Beside him, Fahad's jaw tightened. Under the bed, Fahish had stopped breathing entirely.
He lay flat on his back, arms pressed to his sides, eyes fixed on the underside of the mattress and in his mind, a single sentence repeated itself over and over. She said it out loud.
Beside him, Fahim closed his eyes.
Emotionally compromised. All of us. Completely, irreversibly compromised. There is no recovery from this. There is no counter-argument.
From inside the wardrobe, Fahan whispered,
"Did she know the whole time?"
"Yes."
"And she just—"
"She was playing."
Fahan let out a slow, disbelieving breath. Fahish groaned — the softest, most defeated groan in the history of the Sunayana family.
"I am never going to live this down."