The yellow light of the scattered candles in the mansion’s hall and the soft fragrance of lavender had created a spell where the line between reality and dream had completely disappeared. Aarav, Dev and Reyansh sat suppressing their impatience under coats and ties, but their eyes were fixed on every single gesture of Meher.

There was silence at the dinner table, but it was not the silence that creates fear; it was the silence that comes before a big storm. Meher had lovingly served a royal meal — velvet dal, slow-cooked fish, and fresh fruits — but today the taste was not on the tongue, it was in the eyes. Every time Meher bent to serve, the pallu of her lace saree slipped and all three held their breath at the same time.