It was the wedding day.
The house was filled with guests and distant acquaintances. Laughter, chatter, and music echoed through every corner. The house was decorated like never before—rose and lily garlands hung everywhere, their fragrance filling the air with a strange kind of happiness.
But Sia felt none of it.
She stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a red lehenga. She looked breathtaking. Almost unreal. Her brown skin glowed under the heavy wedding jewellery. Anyone who saw her would call her a perfect bride.
Yet something was terribly off.
She stared at her reflection, her eyes hollow.
Tomorrow morning, 11:00 a.m.
I have the interview.
How will I leave this place?
It wasn't that she didn't have a plan.
She had planned everything. Every detail. How to escape the house. She had contacted an old classmate who lived in the same state. Packed her clothes. Kept all her documents ready. Even booked her train ticket.
Everything was prepared.
Yet something inside her kept holding her back.
Her uncle's face flashed before her eyes.
He had done so much for her. Loved her like his own daughter. Protected her. Given her freedoms her aunt never allowed. If she ran away from her own wedding, people would laugh at him. Point fingers. He would never be able to walk with pride again.
Her chest tightened.
But is it worth sacrificing myself?
Just because society wants me to obey its rules?
Her jaw clenched.
How does choosing myself make me a bad woman?
Just once… just once, can't I choose myself?
No.
This time, she would.
If the world calls me selfish, let it.
If I don't get selected, I'll find another job.
I'll do something.
But I will never come back until I become something.
Her tears dried.
Something inside her hardened.
Suddenly, her phone rang.
It was Rachna.
"Hey? Did you leave the house?" Rachna asked urgently.
"Not yet."
"Why? Did you cancel the plan?"
"No," Sia said firmly.
"Wait… Nisha is calling."
"Hello, Nisha. Rachna is on hold."
"What's the plan?" Nisha asked. "Are you leaving or not?"
"Wait, let me merge the call."
"Hey… hey…"
"So yes," Sia said, lowering her voice, "I am leaving. But I don't know how."
"There are people everywhere," she continued. "I can't go through the main gate. I can't go from the backyard either—food is being prepared there."
Nisha said, "I'm coming to your room. We'll see what we can do. But the problem is, no one is letting me in. Your aunty said you should be alone right now."
Sia thought quickly.
"I'll ask Neeraj to distract aunty. You slowly enter my room."
Rachna cut in, her voice tense.
"Guys, whatever you do, do it fast. Once you reach the railway station, message me. I'll come pick you up."
"Okay," Sia said.
They ended the call.
A strange happiness filled her chest.
For the first time in her life, she was choosing herself over everyone else.
Since childhood, she had sacrificed quietly—for family, for expectations, for peace. She was never the rebellious child she secretly dreamed of being. She was always the silent one. The adjusting one.
Not today.
She called Neeraj and asked him to check on their aunty.
Moments later, Nisha slipped into her room.
Sia hugged her tightly, smiling brightly. Her fear melted for a moment.
The thought that she might finally be free made her breath lighter.
Nisha kissed her forehead.
"Listen carefully," she said. "Give me your bag. I'll take it outside in a wedding basket. Everyone will think it's wedding stuff."
"I'll put it near the main gate, in the dustbin."
Sia nodded.
"And you change into this," Nisha added, handing her clothes. "A big jacket, a mask, and jeans. Boys' jeans."
Sia frowned.
"But won't anyone suspect why a boy was inside my room?"
Nisha looked at her sharply.
"Seriously, Sia? We don't have time to think like that."
Sia hesitated.
"But there's a problem."
"What?"
"If I disappear, they'll find out too early. They'll search everywhere. And it's impossible to keep aunty and grandma away from my room."
Nisha thought.
"I'll tell them you're resting. That you're not feeling well. I gave you medicine."
"No!" Sia panicked. "They'll panic. I'm the bride."
"Then what do we do?" Nisha whispered.
Sia's mind raced.
"I think… there's only one option."
"What?"
"You wear the lehenga. Sit in my place."
Nisha's eyes widened.
"No. No, I can't do that!"
"That's the only option," Sia insisted.
"Definitely not."
"You'll go, but they won't spare me," Nisha said helplessly.
"…That's also true," Sia muttered.
Time was running out. With every passing second, Sia's heartbeat grew louder. The plan existed—but practically, it was full of holes.
Finally, they agreed on one thing.
They would say Sia wasn't feeling well.
Suddenly, Sia's phone rang again.
An unknown number.
She picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Sia," a slurred voice said. "You're getting married… I won't let that happen."
Her blood froze.
"I'm coming to your house," the voice continued. "I'll tell you the truth."
It was Arjun.
Drunk.
Before she could say anything, the call disconnected.
Her heart started pounding violently.
Now running wasn't a choice anymore.
It was a necessity.
If she stayed, everything would be ruined—beyond repair.
According to the plan, Nisha packed Sia's bag into a wedding basket and carried it outside.
At every step, someone stopped her.
"What's in the basket?"
"Where are you taking it?"
She gave different answers to everyone.
To her aunt, she said it was flowers—and almost got caught.
To her uncle, she said it was something for the caterer. He even asked her to hand it to him. Somehow, she escaped that too.
Finally, she crossed the main gate and placed the bag inside the dustbin near the entrance.
Her heart was racing.
When Nisha returned to the room, Sia was already dressed in the jacket, mask, and jeans.
She looked unrecognizable.
Just as they were about to move—
The door opened.
And her aunty stepped inside the room.