Meanwhile, at the Chawl
Pranati stood alone.
The space around her felt vast—too vast. High walls rose on all sides, cold and unfamiliar, like the inside of a massive hall. Her footsteps echoed even though she hadn't moved.
Something was wrong.
A low groan vibrated through the floor beneath her feet.
She looked up.
Cracks began to creep across the ceiling, thin at first, like hairline fractures in glass. Dust drifted down, settling on her lashes, her shoulders. The air felt heavy, hard to breathe.
"No…" she whispered, her voice swallowed by the emptiness.
The walls shuddered. A deep, grinding sound followed—stone protesting against stone. Pieces of plaster broke loose, crashing to the floor around her.
Her heart pounded violently.
She tried to move, but her feet felt rooted, as if the ground itself was holding her back.
The ceiling split wider.
A massive slab of debris tore free, plunging straight toward her.
Pranati screamed—
"AAAH—!"
She jolted upright in her bed, breath tearing out of her chest, hands clawing at the sheets. Her heart raced so fast it hurt. Sweat dampened her hairline as she looked around wildly.
The dim light of the chawl room greeted her. The familiar cracked walls. The hum of distant voices. Reality—uneven, but intact.
Nothing was falling.
Her chest rose and fell unevenly as she pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. The dream clung to her, heavy and sharp, refusing to fade.
Why did it feel… real?
Why did it feel like a warning?
She swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling above her—half-expecting it to裂 again.
Outside, life went on.
Inside, something restless had awakened.
Meanwhile, at the Chawl
Pranati stepped out of the small bathroom, towel draped over her damp hair, the scent of soap still clinging to her skin.
She stretched slightly, exhaustion easing from her shoulders. "At least today's my off day," she murmured to herself, almost relieved.
Then—
She stopped.
The smell hit her first.
Hot ghee. Fresh rotis. Something sweet—halwa?
Pranati frowned.
The tiny kitchen looked… alive.
Jassi stood near the stove, spatula in hand, humming softly. The flame flickered beneath the pan, reflecting off bangles that hadn't been worn in years.
Pranati stared, stunned. "Mom…?" Her voice came out uncertain. "You're… cooking?"
Jassi turned, a bright smile already in place. "Why, beta? Can't your mother cook for you now?" She laughed lightly, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Pranati's confusion deepened. The last time she cooked…
She swallowed. I was fifteen.
Jassi moved quickly, almost eagerly, setting a plate before her. "Sit. Sit properly. Look how thin you've become." She brushed Pranati's arm affectionately, her tone unusually soft. "You work so hard. I worry about you."
Pranati sat slowly, wary. Her eyes followed every movement—how carefully the food was served, how deliberately Jassi watched her take the first bite.
"This is… good," Pranati admitted quietly, still unsure.
Jassi's smile widened just a little. She pulled a chair closer, sitting across from her, elbows resting casually on the table. Her gaze lingered on Pranati's face—not with motherly warmth, but with calculation hidden beneath sweetness.
"Yes," Jassi said softly. "You deserve good things, beta."
She paused.
Waited.
Watched Pranati eat another bite.
Not yet.
The moment wasn't right.
The food needed to soften her first.
Jassi leaned back, masking impatience behind a gentle sigh, already rehearsing the words she would soon speak—the performance, the promise she had made, the money already taken.
Pranati, unaware, ate quietly.
And somewhere between the warmth of the meal and the silence in the room, a trap was being laid.
To be continued…
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