INT. SHAHEEN ESTATE – AAHI'S ROOM – EARLY AFTERNOON
The sunlight had turned golden. Aahi's room glowed — cushions fluffed, curtains open, soft music playing on the record player. She was on the floor, sketching loosely in her notebook, one leg folded under her, hair messy and wild.
Suddenly—
"Aahi!"
Her grandmother's voice floated up from the drawing room below. Louder than usual, almost excited.
"Aahi beta, come quickly!"
Aahi dropped her pencil.
"Coming, Naani!"
She stood up, heart suddenly lifting.
There was something in that voice — not worry, not scolding. Something rare.
Joy.
She reached the staircase just as her grandmother turned the corner from the hall, a wide smile on her face.
"Guess who's coming today?"
Aahi blinked, hopeful.
"Who?"
"Your mother."
Aahi's eyes lit up. Her body stilled for a heartbeat before her lips stretched into the widest, brightest smile she had worn in weeks.
"She's really coming?"
Shaheen nodded.
"Yes. She landed early. She'll be here by evening."
Aahi didn't say a word.
She just turned around and ran back to her room — laughing as she did, light on her feet — flinging open her wardrobe, searching for the blue dupatta her mother had gifted her last birthday.
It was rare, these moments. Her mother, always flying, always between meetings and countries, calls made from airport lounges and hotel lobbies. Sometimes days passed between their chats. Sometimes weeks.
But today… she was coming home.
---
A FEW HOURS LATER
INT. SHAHEEN ESTATE – DRAWING ROOM – EVENING
The sun dipped lower. The sky outside had turned orange.
The front door creaked open.
Aahi stood near the staircase, spine straight, heart thudding.
And then there she was — Aarifah Shaikh, elegant in a navy-blue business suit, her heels clicking against the marble floor, suitcase in hand, phone in the other.
Aahi's eyes welled up before she even smiled.
"Mama."
Aarifah looked up — her expression softening.
She opened her arms.
And for once… she didn't check her phone first.
Aahi ran into the hug, burying her face in her mother's shoulder, taking in the scent of her — subtle perfume, leather, something warm and faintly citrus.
"I missed you so much," Aahi whispered.
"I missed you too, meri jaan."
They stood like that for a moment. Breathing each other in.
But then — too soon — Aarifah stepped back.
Her tone shifted.
"Aahi… I need to talk to you about something important."
Aahi tilted her head, slightly hesitant now.
"What is it?"
Aarifah sighed. Set the suitcase aside. Took her hand.
They sat down on the velvet couch.
Her mother's voice was calm. Clear. But firm.
"We're moving. To a new place. Out of this estate."
Silence.
Aahi stared at her. The words didn't register at first.
Not fully.
"What?"
"I've already found the new house. A smaller, more secure property, closer to the city. This estate is too isolated. Too much space. And with your college and everything ahead, I think—"
"Wait." Aahi pulled her hand away.
"You already decided?"
"Beta, I wanted to tell you in person."
"Not ask me?"
Aahi stood now. Her heart pounded again — but this time, not with joy.
She looked around the room.
The window where she watched the first summer rain.
The piano her father used to play — before he left.
The stairs she'd run down when she was ten, laughing.
The garden, where her bag still sat with a spirit charm quietly pulsing inside it.
"You want to take me away from everything," she whispered. "From here. From… her."
Aarifah looked confused.
"From who?"
Aahi blinked. She didn't answer. Her throat was dry. Her hands trembled.
Everything she knew — everything still holding her together — felt like it was slipping beneath her feet.
"I need some air," she said quietly.
And before anyone could stop her, she turned and walked back out into the garden, where something waited in her bag…
…and where her past, her present, and her fate were about to collide.
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