Dinner had long started downstairs. But Aksh had not gone down. The room remained dim except for the soft yellow light near the bed and the silver glow of moonlight spilling through the open windows. Aksh sat on the wide window ledge, one leg bent slightly, his plastered hand resting against his knee while the other loosely held the edge of the frame.

From outside came distant sounds of laughter and cutlery from the dining hall below. Muted. Far away. Like they belonged to another world entirely. Kairav’s words still lingered unpleasantly in his mind. Heavy in ways Aksh did not want to examine. And perhaps because of that, his thoughts had drifted somewhere even more dangerous. To his mother.