A U T H O R

1 year later...

The soft evening rays of the sun streamed through the nursery’s windows, casting golden hues over the scattered toys and pastel walls. It was the day of the country’s most prestigious bakery award ceremony and with just an hour left to reach the venue, the house stood quiet. Everyone had already left, Drishti, Ranveer, Viraaj, and even Isha's parents.

But Isha was still chasing her daughter around the nursery, not even close to being ready. Her saree lay folded neatly on the small round table, untouched. She was only in her blouse and shapewear, a sheen of quiet stress lining her face as she clutched Rasha’s tiny flared frock in her hand.

“Rasha,” she called gently, but firmly, her eyes following her daughter’s tiny feet pattering across the room. “Baby, please don’t trouble Mumma... We’re getting so late, na. Come here.”

Little Rasha, dressed in nothing but her diaper, ran from one corner to the other, the toy sword gripped tightly in her tiny fist, her milk nipple bobbing in her mouth. Her soft curls bounced with every movement, unaware of the rush unfolding around her.