The road stretched ahead, its black asphalt glistening under the soft glow of streetlights. The RollsRoyce cruised smoothly, a fortress of comfort and silence amidst the night’s gentle drizzle. Inside, a

girl sat beside her mother in the plush leather backseat. Her head rested on her mother's shoulder,

the familiar scent of her perfume wrapping her in warmth and safety. The soft hum of the car engine

lulled her into a trance, her eyelids drooping.

The rain began to intensify, droplets racing down the car windows like tiny rivers. The girl absently

traced one with her finger, her thoughts drifting. Her father sat in the passenger seat, discussing

something trivial with the driver. Their voices blended with the rhythmic tap of rain against glass.

A sudden flash of light broke the serenity, cutting through the dark like a blade. It reflected off the

girl’s face, stark and blinding. She blinked, startled, and turned to the right, her breath catching as

she peered through the rain-streaked window.

A truck barreled toward them.

“Papa! Watch out!” she screamed, her voice cracking with terror.

The driver yanked the steering wheel, tires screeching in protest as the truck collided with the car.

The world exploded into chaos. Metal crunched, glass shattered, and the Rolls-Royce flipped,

tumbling like a lifeless toy.

The girl’s body was flung sideways, her mother’s arms instinctively tightening around her. The

deafening crash drowned out the scream that tore from her throat. Time slowed, the chaos around

her blurring into an incomprehensible whirlwind of sound and motion.

The car landed on its side with a bone-jarring thud. Blood smeared the shattered windshield, the

metallic scent thick in the air. Rain poured through the broken windows, mixing with the crimson

pooling around them.

“Ma… Papa…” the girl whispered, her voice trembling as she turned her head.

Her father lay still in the front seat, his head slumped unnaturally forward. The driver, motionless, his

face obscured by blood.

“Mam…” she choked, clutching at her mother. Her mother’s arms, warm and trembling, encased her

in a desperate embrace.

“It’s okay, beta… It’s ok..ay…” her mother whispered, her voice a fragile thread against the chaos. But

her breaths were labored, her strength fading.

The girl clung to her mother as sobs racked her chest, the rain soaking them through. Her mother’s

grip tightened one last time before loosening, her body sagging against her daughter’s.

“No NO NO, Ma! ” the girl cried, shaking her, but her mother’s head lolled lifelessly.

The rain poured harder, washing away the blood in streaks down the road. The girl lay there amidst

the wreckage, her mother’s body draped over her, her cries muffled by the relentless downpour. The

world around her dissolved into a haze of grief and rain, leaving her alone in the shattering silence of

her loss.

The rain battered against the wreckage as she sat in the mangled car, her mother’s lifeless arms

wrapped around her. Blood seeped into the pooling rainwater, and the silence was deafening, broken

only by the faint hiss of the storm.

She lifted her head slowly, her tear-streaked face illuminated by a distant streetlight. That’s when she

saw it—a figure. Just a glimpse, like a shadow flickering at the edge of her vision. Tall, motionless,

watching her from the distance.

Her heart seized, a scream rising in her throat, but it never came. The world around her dissolved,

shattered like glass.

She gasped awake, bolting upright in bed. Sweat dripped down her face, her chest heaving as if she’d

been running for miles. Her trembling hands clutched the blanket as her wide eyes darted around

the room, confirming she was safe. The soft hum of the ceiling fan, the faint glow of Jaipur’s city

lights filtering through her curtains—it was all real.

It had been six years. Six years since the accident.

She pressed her palm against her damp forehead, forcing herself to breathe. "All is well All is well,"

she whispered and patted her chest, though she didn’t quite believe it. The nightmare clung to her

like a shadow, refusing to let go

After a moment, she slid out of bed, her bare feet padding softly on the cool tiled floor. The clock

read 5:45 AM—almost time to open the flower shop. She worked there with her best friend, Meera,

who had given her a fresh start in this new city.

A New Day in Jaipur

By 7 AM, she was at Bloom & Bliss, the quaint little flower shop nestled in a bustling Jaipur street.

The scent of roses and marigolds greeted her as she unlocked the glass door, letting the early

sunlight spill inside. She inhaled deeply, finding momentary solace in the familiar aroma.

“hello beauty so early today !” Meera called from the back, her cheerful voice breaking through the

haze of Aarya’s lingering thoughts.

“Morning Meera,” Aarya replied, forcing a small smile as she began arranging the fresh flowers

Meera had picked up from the market earlier.

“morning…sweetie’’ Meera replied

The shop soon filled with customers—a young man nervously buying a bouquet for his girlfriend, an

elderly woman picking marigolds for a puja. Aarya smiled and interacted with them, her hands deftly

wrapping flowers, but her mind was never entirely at ease.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, her heart skipped a beat. Every glance from a passerby,

every shadow cast by the morning sun, made her stomach churn. She felt it again—the weight of

eyes on her. Someone watching.

It wasn’t new. Since moving to Jaipur, she had felt it constantly, like a presence just out of sight. She

would turn abruptly on the street, only to find no one there. She would look over her shoulder in the

shop and see nothing but the quiet street outside.

Meera often joked about her being paranoid. "You need to stop watching crime shows before bed!"

she’d laugh. But Aarya knew it wasn’t her imagination.

By mid-afternoon, the shop quieted down. Aarya was watering a pot of jasmine when she noticed a

man standing across the street. He was tall, wearing a dark jacket, and seemed to be looking straight

at her.

Her heart raced, but she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to focus on the flowers. When she

glanced back, he was gone.

“Hey you all right ?” Meera asked, noticing the tension in her face.

“mmhm ,” Aarya lied, her voice tight.

The day ended as it always did—her locking up the shop while Meera headed home early. As Aarya

walked back to her small apartment, the streets were alive with Jaipur’s evening bustle. Vendors

called out their wares, the scent of spices mingling with the city’s warm air.

But even amidst the crowd, she felt it. That presence. Her steps quickened, her eyes darting to every

shadow.

When she finally reached her apartment, she was struggling to open the lock and suddenly her eyes

fell on the corner of the door it was a marigold lying on the step its petals bright against the

concrete.

She picked it up and looked around. The street was empty but she could feel it. Someone was there

Watching.

End --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aarya stepped into her apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. The lock clicked into

place, and she lingered, listening. The faint ticking of the clock in the living room seemed

louder in the otherwise silent space. She moved methodically, checking the latches on every

window, her fingers running over them to ensure they were secure.

Her apartment was neat, each item in its place. Everything felt normal, yet something gnawed

at her. She shrugged it off, heading to the kitchen. As she poured herself a glass of water, she

caught a glimpse of the balcony door.

Her heart skipped a beat.

A handprint—large, distinct—was smeared on the glass.

Her grip on the glass tightened, but her expression didn’t falter. She set it down deliberately,

the soft clink echoing in the stillness. She turned toward the counter, where a row of knives

gleamed under the dim light. Without hesitation, she grabbed the largest one, holding it low

but firm.

Aarya approached the balcony door, her eyes scanning the shadows beyond the glass. The

street below was empty, bathed in the cold glow of streetlights. Her mind raced, calculating.

That handprint wasn’t there before.

The faintest sound—a creak from the hallway.

Aarya froze. She didn’t call out or demand answers; that would give away her position.

Instead, she moved toward the hallway, her steps calculated, silent. The knife in her hand felt

reassuring, its weight anchoring her.

The sound of footsteps followed, soft but deliberate.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her voice calm but sharp, carrying an edge of authority.

No response.

Another step. Closer this time.

Her grip on the knife tightened as she turned the corner quickly, her eyes narrowing. The

hallway was empty, but she knew better than to relax. Fear clawed at her chest, but she

shoved it down, focusing instead on the sound of breathing—deep, steady, and not her own.

A shadow shifted near the door.

“Show yourself,” Aarya said, her voice low and commanding.

And then she saw him.

The man stepped into view, tall and imposing, his face partially hidden in the dim light. His

movements were slow, deliberate, as if he enjoyed her discomfort. Aarya raised the knife

slightly, her eyes locking onto his

“Stay back,” she warned, her voice steady despite the thunderous beat of her heart. “You take

one more step, and I swear you won’t make it out of here alive.”

The man didn’t respond. Instead, he lunged toward her, his hand reaching out.

Aarya moved instinctively, sidestepping his advance and slashing at the air between them. He

dodged, his movements quick and calculated, and came at her again. This time, she swung

the knife with purpose, grazing his arm.

The man hissed in pain but didn’t stop. He grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she cried out

and dropped the knife. Aarya kicked out, her foot connecting with his shin, but his grip

remained unrelenting.

Just as he raised his other hand, Aarya screamed—

And jolted awake.

The room was dim, the bedside lamp casting faint shadows on the walls. Aarya sat upright in

bed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she clutched

the sheets, her eyes darting around the room.

It was just a dream.

But the vividness of it lingered, the man’s face still etched in her mind. She glanced at the

clock: 4:30 AM. Her body trembled as she swung her legs off the bed, planting her feet

firmly on the floor to ground herself.

A cold shower was the only thing that could calm her. She stood under the icy stream, letting

it wash away the remnants of fear that clung to her skin.

When she returned to the living room, she felt lighter, as though the dream had finally

loosened its grip. She went to the kitchen for water, and her movements were steady now.

Her gaze drifted toward the balcony door.

The handprint was still there.

Aarya’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the glass. Slowly, she set it down and

moved closer to the door, her eyes fixed on the print.

The smudge gleamed faintly in the early light, mocking her.

Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood there, staring, the silence of the

room growing heavier.

This wasn’t a dream.

‘‘I swear to god I will catch you’’ she growled, her voice steady the terror coursing through

her vein

End-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The streets of Jaipur were alive, buzzing with color and movement as the city greeted another

day. Aarya walked briskly through the lanes, her soft pink kurta billowing lightly in the

morning breeze. The faint aroma of kachoris and the rhythmic sound of vendors haggling

created a lively backdrop. Despite the vibrancy of her surroundings, Aarya’s mind was a

swirl of thoughts, remnants of a restless night.

By the time she reached the flower shop, she was ready to bury herself in work. Her

sanctuary awaited—filled with blooms of every color and the calming scent of jasmine. As

she pushed open the door, the familiar sight of Meera perched on a stool greeted her.

“Ah, the queen Jodha arrives,” Meera teased, twirling a marigold garland like it was a crown.

“Yes,go Dasi [Slave] get me a cup of tea” Aarya ordered her like a queen, setting her bag

down.

Meera smirked. “yes Maharani, how about with extra poison? .”

“Don’t worry Your tongue is enough for that no need for extra,” Aarya quipped, grabbing an

apron.

Meera clutched her chest in mock offense. “Rude! Bitch.”

Aarya act offended. “you DARE to speak like this to your QUEEN, I can get your head cut

off for this impudence.’”

“achha ji,” Meera shot back with a grin.

Their day began in typical chaos. Customers streamed in, placing orders for weddings,

anniversaries, and everything in between. Meera managed the front with her bubbly charm,

while Aarya focused on crafting bouquets with meticulous care.

The chime of the shop’s door rang again around noon.

“Welcome!” Meera chirped, her tone automatically cheerful.

Aarya didn’t look up, her hands busy arranging a delicate set of lilies. But Meera’s sudden

silence made her glance toward the door.

Her heart skipped.

The man standing there was a towering presence—broad shoulders, sharp features, and an air

of quiet confidence. His crisp white shirt, rolled at the sleeves, hinted at strength, but it was

his eyes that made Aarya pause. They were dark, intense, and focused solely on her.

He stepped further in, his polished black shoes almost silent on the tiled floor.

“White roses,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a richness that seemed to linger in the

air.

Aarya froze, the familiarity of that voice hitting her like a jolt. Slowly, she turned to face him

fully, her heart pounding. Shiv.

Meera, ever the enthusiast, leaned closer to Aarya and whispered, “Bhaisab[oh god] kudrat ka

Karishma h ye[miracle of nature he is]”

Aarya shot her a warning look ‘Meera behave’’.

“Ther ..Over there you can have them,” she managed to say, pointing to the display. Her tone

was steady, but her fingers gripped the edge of the counter tightly.

Shiv’s gaze didn’t waver as he nodded and walked to the roses. His movements were precise,

deliberate, as though he controlled not just himself but the space around him.

Meera elbowed Aarya playfully. “Girl, if you don’t start talking to him, I will. He looks like

the kind of guy who could make you forget your middle name.”

“Meera!” Aarya hissed, but her friend was undeterred.

“What? I’m just saying! You don’t get guys like that in Jaipur every day. He’s like... a

walking novel protagonist.”

Shiv returned to the counter with a bouquet of white roses. Aarya reached for the wrapping

paper, her hands brushing against his briefly. The contact was electric, sending a shiver down

her spine. She tried not to look up, but the intensity of his presence made it impossible to

ignore.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone formal yet tinged with something softer.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, barely above a whisper.

As he handed over the money, Shiv’s fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary. His gaze remained steady on hers, creating a tension that neither of them addressed.

When he left, the doorbell chimed softly behind him. Aarya let out a breath she hadn’t

realized she’d been holding. But before he stepped into a sleek black car parked outside, he

glanced back. Their eyes met through the glass, and something unspoken passed between

them.

“hehehehe... Who was that?” Meera elbowed Aarya playfully narrowing her eyes with smirk

“Just a customer,” Aarya said quickly, focusing on tying a ribbon around a bouquet.

Meera snorted. “Just a customer? Sure, and I’m just a florist. Come on, Aarya, don’t leave me

hanging. That man was straight out of a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on your

perspective.”

“Stop being dramatic,” Aarya muttered, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.

Meera smirked. “Fine, keep your secrets. But I swear, if Mr. Kudrat ka Karishma comes

back, I’m wooing him myself.”

“You’re impossible,” Aarya said, shaking her head.

“That’s why you love me ,” Meera quipped, sticking out her tongue.

Aarya laughed despite herself, grateful for Meera’s lightheartedness. But her thoughts kept

drifting back to Shiv. His presence lingered like the scent of roses, unsettling and

unforgettable.

As the day went on, she merged herself in work but her mind wavering toward Shiv

[Why Shiv , why now you come back ,WHY ?] she sighed

End-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------