One of them stepped forward, raising a hand.
"Stop."
Nora froze.
Meera's fingers twitched beneath her dress, ready to react.
The guard gestured politely but firmly.
"Please remove the veil. Security protocol."
Nora tilted her head—then suddenly went completely silent.
She blinked.
Then touched her ear, shook her head, then crossed her fingers over her lips.
She pointed at the veil, then at an imaginary ring—crossing her hands firmly.
[ In sign language — A wedding ritual. Removing the veil meant bad luck. ]
The guards exchanged confused looks.
One of them leaned toward the Russian guard and whispered,
"You know Russian, right? Ask her ."
The second guard straightened and spoke firmly in Russian:
"Это протокол безопасности. Можем ли мы проверить лицо невесты?"
("It's a security protocol. May we check the bride's face?")
The other guards watched closely, tension flickering in their eyes.
Nora froze for a heartbeat—firmly hold the fan in front of face again slowly shook her head.
No sound. No words.
Meera straightened, her expression suddenly grave.
She spoke in slow, deliberate Russian—each word heavy with warning.
"Она невеста."
(She's the bride.)
A brief pause. Then, darker.
"Ритуалы… очень чувствительные."
(The rituals… are extremely sensitive.)
She leaned closer, lowering her voice to an ominous whisper, eyes locking onto the guards.
"Если снять фату до церемонии—"
(If the veil is removed before the ceremony—)
She stopped. Let the silence work.
Then finished quietly, almost cruelly:
"Семь лет несчастья."
(Seven years of misfortune.)
"Семь лет несчастья — и для невесты, и для того, кто увидит её лицо."
(Seven years of misfortune—for the bride and for anyone who sees her face.)
The Indian guards immediately turned toward the Russian guards, their eyes questioning—What did she just say?
One of the Russian guards cleared his throat and explained quietly,
"She says it's part of their wedding rituals. The veil cannot be lifted before the ceremony."
He hesitated, then added,
"Seven years of misfortune will fall… not only on the bride—but on anyone who tries to see her face, or makes her reveal it."
The Indian guards exchanged uneasy glances.
Meera tilted her head, lips curving faintly.
"Seven. Long. Years."
Then the lead guard sighed.
"…Let them pass."
One by one, the guards finally stepped aside, allowing them to pass.
Just as Nora and Meera moved forward—
One guard stopped them again.
Both of them froze.
This is it… we're done.
But then the guard smiled and said calmly,
"Congratulations on your wedding."
For a second, there was silence—
then suddenly, everyone joined in.
"Congratulations."
"Best wishes."
"Happiness to the bride."
Meera grabbed Nora's wrist.
"Spasibo," (Thank You)
she said quickly, already pulling her away.
Before anyone could change their mind, Nora and Meera hurried forward, climbed into the car, and shut the doors quickly.
The engine started.
They were gone—
Just as the cars disappeared from sight, the lead guard's phone rang.
He answered.
On the other end was Advik—his voice groggy, heavy with sleep. Water splashed loudly as he forced himself awake, trying desperately to stay alert.
"Miss Nora has disappeared," Advik said urgently.
"Don't let anyone leave the premises—"
The guards froze.
Before the sentence could even finish, the lead guard barked sharply,
"Stop them. Now!"
Panic erupted.
Engines roared to life. Guards rushed to their vehicles, tires screeching as multiple cars sped off in pursuit.
Meanwhile, Advik soaked his face with water, shaking off the last traces of sleep. He grabbed his jacket, rushed into his car, and ordered the driver to move—fast.
His phone was already in his hand.
Again and again, he tried calling Nora.
No answer.
His jaw tightened.
Please… pick up.
Snowfall began suddenly—soft at first, then thicker, swallowing the road in white.
Advik and the guards were still chasing her.
Too close.
Close enough now that Nora's car was clearly visible through the blur of snow and headlights.
"Don't lose them," Advik barked, breath sharp, eyes burning with urgency.
The distance closed.
Heartbeat to heartbeat.
Then—
A truck appeared out of nowhere.
Massive. Looming. Blocking the road.
Nora's car swerved instinctively.
The tires screamed.
Metal skidded.
And before anyone could react—
The car shot past the railing.
Straight off the bridge.
Advik slammed the brakes and ran.
The guards followed, boots pounding against frozen asphalt.
Below—
Water.
The car had already disappeared beneath the surface.
"Nora!" Advik shouted, his voice tearing through the snowstorm.
Too late.
She burst out of the car, gasping for air—but the river dragged her down again.
Cold pierced her skin like blades.
Her veil dissolved into the water, floating away like a broken promise.
The bridal dress clung to her, soaked, heavy, pulling her deeper.
Her vision blurred.
Snow above.
Darkness below.
Then—
Through the haze—
She saw a hand.
Reaching for her.
Was it real… or just hope?
Her thoughts scattered, soft and trembling—
I just wanted to live once… on my own terms.
I wanted to meet him.
If You were going to call me back anyway… then why bring me so close to him?
Please… take care of him, God.
To Be Continued…