Sleep didn't touch me that night.
How could it?
Maya's voice replayed over and over in my head like a haunting I couldn't escape.
"You don't remember because something happened."
"The doctor said you might forget bits of that month."
"That boy was Riyan's brother."
A missing month.
A boy I didn't remember.
A tragedy I was somehow tied to.
And now…
a husband who looked at me like I carried the blood of betrayal on my hands.
By morning, I was a knot of nerves barely held together.
I stood by the window, watching the mansion's garden swaying gently under the early sunlight.
It looked peaceful.
But peace was an illusion here.
A polite costume covering a house full of secrets.
I tightened my grip on my phone.
I had only one thought left now:
I need to know the truth.
Even if it destroys everything.
A soft knock came at the door.
My heart jumped — out of fear, not surprise.
The maid entered, her gaze lowered. "Madam, Ma'am wants you downstairs in an hour for the charity preparation."
Charity.
Pretending to smile in front of cameras.
Pretending this marriage was anything but a sentence.
"Okay," I replied quietly.
But I wasn't thinking about that.
I was thinking about the West Wing.
The rule I had accidentally broken yesterday.
1. You are not allowed to enter the West Wing of the mansion.
If the truth about his brother was anywhere…
it was behind those forbidden doors.
As the maid left, I waited until her footsteps faded.
Then I opened my phone and searched through old messages, old photos — anything from that month Maya mentioned.
My heart dropped as I scrolled.
Most of my gallery was empty.
Almost no photos from that time.
No chats.
No call logs.
Just… emptiness.
As if that part of my life had been wiped clean.
Why?
Who?
My fingers trembled.
I opened my old email account — something I hadn't touched in years — and searched for keywords: "Malhotra," "brother," "boy," "college gate."
Nothing.
But then—
A new email notification blinked on the screen.
From: Unknown
Subject: Stop digging.
My blood ran cold.
With shaking hands, I opened it.
"If you try to remember, you will regret it.
Some truths don't belong to you anymore."
My stomach twisted painfully.
Someone knew I was looking.
Someone was watching.
Someone wanted to keep the past buried.
But why?
Why was the truth so dangerous?
My breath shook as I set the phone down.
Now I wasn't just desperate.
I was afraid.
But fear couldn't stop me.
Not anymore.
I glanced toward the door — the hallway was quiet.
Everyone was still busy downstairs preparing for the charity event.
This was my only chance.
I grabbed the key card and slipped out silently, heart pounding as I made my way toward the part of the mansion I wasn't allowed to enter.
The West Wing.
The hallway leading to it was dimmer than the rest of the house, quieter, almost abandoned.
Each step echoed like a warning.
My palms grew slick with nervous sweat.
When I reached the doorway, I paused.
A heavy wooden door stood in front of me, carved with patterns I didn't recognize.
A thin layer of dust covered the handle, as if no one had touched it in years.
But the strangest part?
A faint light glowed from beneath the door.
Someone had been inside.
Recently.
I swallowed hard and reached out.
My fingers curled around the handle.
Cold metal.
A shiver ran up my spine.
When I pushed it gently, the door creaked — loud enough to make my heart stop.
But it opened.
Inside, the air felt colder.
The hallway was narrow and led deeper into the forbidden wing, its shadows long and unsettling.
I took one step inside—
And a voice echoed behind me.
"Aarvi."
My heart stopped.
I spun around.
Riyan stood there.
His face emotionless.
His eyes burning.
I froze.
He looked at the open door.
Then at my hand on the handle.
Something inside him snapped — not loudly, but quietly, like glass breaking under pressure.
"I warned you," he said softly.
Soft.
Deadly.
Unmistakably hurt.
"I wasn't going inside," I whispered helplessly. "I just— I just wanted to know the truth—"
"The truth?" He stepped toward me. "You think the truth will save you?"
"I didn't do anything—"
"You don't KNOW what you did," he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.
I flinched.
This wasn't anger.
This was grief turned violent.
He took another step, breathing unevenly.
"You should've stayed out of this wing," he whispered. "Now you've left me no choice."
My breath hitched.
"What… what choice?"
His jaw tightened.
His eyes glistened — not with tears, but with something rawer, deeper.
"Aarvi… this marriage was supposed to last a year."
I felt the ground tilt under me.
His next words shattered me.
"But after this, I don't know if it will last another day."