As her sister gently tugged her by the hand and guided her into the room, Zoha could feel a weight pressing down on her chest. Her sister had something important to share-something that felt like earth-shattering news. Moments later, their mother entered the room, concern etched on her face. "Where were you? Do you have any idea how many times I called you?"

Zoha, still reeling, turned towards her mother and asked, "Ammi, is what she said true?" Her finger instinctively pointed at her sister, who sat cross-legged on the floor, an anxious expression betraying her anticipation. Her mother's face brightened, radiating happiness. "I told her I would explain later," she said excitedly. "You've received a marriage proposal, and I'm overjoyed!"

Though her mother spoke with unrestrained enthusiasm, Zoha's heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces, leaving her breathless. It was as if the very air had been knocked from her lungs. Her sister had sensed that the news would bring her distress, and unfortunately, that worry was proving to be all too accurate.

Silence fell over the room as Zoha processed the overwhelming information. Her sister, sitting in front of her with her hands resting on her knees, was a picture of cautious hope. Their mother, eyes sparkling with excitement, eagerly awaited Zoha's reaction, silently urging her to agree to the proposal. But instead of offering the response they sought, Zoha muttered, "I'm feeling sleepy; I want to sleep," her voice barely above a whisper.

This unexpected reply left her mother momentarily confused but resonated with her sister, who understood the turmoil Zoha must be feeling. Her mother, a blend of understanding and concern, responded gently, "That's fine, but you were out so late. You must be hungry. Where were you, Zoha? I made your favorite biryani today!"

As her mother turned to leave the room, Zoha's heart broke further. She fought desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, terrified of breaking down in front of them. The sight of her mother's eagerness and devotion only intensified her grief. It felt as if the walls were closing in around her, and the realization of her mother's joy contrasted sharply with her despair.

Suddenly, the dam broke. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed quietly, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. Alarmed by her sudden outburst, her mother rushed back, worry etched across her face. She enveloped Zoha in a warm embrace, whispering soothingly, "Kya bt hain mere bacche, why are you crying like this? Please, tell me."

The anxious exchange left Ayat, her sister, with no choice but to fetch a glass of water. While Zoha continued to cry, the sheer weight of her emotions overwhelmed her, and she eventually drifted off to sleep in her mother's comforting lap.

Her mother, observing the deep sorrow etched on her daughter's face, looked towards Ayat with concern. "What did you tell Zoha that made her react this way?" she inquired, her voice tinged with worry. Ayat, eyes downcast and voice trembling, replied softly, "Ammi, I only told her what happened while she was away."

Gently brushing some hair from Zoha's forehead, their mother felt a wave of protectiveness wash over her. She removed her hijab, covered her sleeping daughter with a soft blanket, and tenderly kissed her forehead. With a heavy heart, she stepped away, leaving Ayat to observe her sister with a mix of sadness and empathy. As Ayat closed the door quietly behind her, she glanced back, wishing for a way to ease both her sister's pain and the uncertainty that lingered in the air.

Next Day:-

Zoha jolted awake early in the morning, surprisingly without the shrill of an alarm or the gentle nudge of anyone. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Standing before the mirror, she gazed at her reflection, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. "Zoha, you are strong enough not to shed your precious tears for someone like him," she whispered to herself, determination flickering in her eyes.

Moments later, with a newfound resolve, she stepped into the kitchen where her mother was bustling about. Upon catching sight of her, her mother smiled and asked, "Did you sleep well baccha?"

"Ji, Ammi," Zoha replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. Her mother motioned her to join for breakfast, but concern shadowed her features. "Why did you cry so much last night?" she probed gently.

With theatrical flair, Zoha exclaimed, "Ammi, I just heard about the wedding; my eyes simply overflowed!" She playfully wrapped her arms around her mother from behind, feigning despair. "Why are you in such a rush to marry me off, dear mother? Am I such a bother?"

Her mother, stifling a laugh, rose from her chair, teasingly pulled Zoha's ear, and said, "Zyada nahi bol rahi tum, hmm?"

"Ouch! Ammi, my ear!" Zoha protested with an exaggerated pout, yet laughter danced in her eyes.

In an instant, her mother enveloped her in a warm embrace. "Tum toh meri shaan ho! Aisi bakwas baatein kabhi mat karna!"

Just then, Ayat emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes dramatically. "Mujhe toh sab bhool hi gaye! Haye re, meri kismat!" she lamented, placing a hand on her forehead and pretending to weep.

Caught up in the hilarity of the moment, Zoha and her mother turned together and exclaimed, "Awwwwww!" before pulling Ayat into a group hug, a whirlwind of laughter and love wrapping around them. However, their cozy moment was abruptly interrupted by a sudden ring at the doorbell.

Curious, Zoha hurried to answer it, only to find an empty porch. Puzzled, she stepped outside, scanning the surroundings, but to her dismay, no one was in sight. Just as she was about to turn back, something on the ground caught her eye. An envelope lay invitingly at her doorstep. Glancing around once more, she picked it up and retreated inside, her heart racing with curiosity.

Upon her return, her mother's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Who was it, bacche?" she asked eagerly. Zoha handed the envelope to her mother, adding, "I have no idea, Ammi. I just found this."

Her mother inspected the envelope, noting the absence of any names. Turning it back to Zoha, she said, "Open it and see what's inside. I wonder who left this at our gate." Suddenly, a voice echoed from behind them. "Zoha, open that envelope and see if it has a cheque for Rs 1 crore in it!" It was none other than Ayat, her eyes wide with excitement.

A thrill of anticipation hung in the air as Zoha prepared to uncover the envelope's secrets. What could it contain?

------------------

In the depths of a pitch-black room, a sliver of light broke through, illuminating a singular image on the wall. It was a picture of a girl-not extraordinary, nor strikingly beautiful like Cinderella. She didn't possess the porcelain skin of Snow White, nor did she have the cascading locks of Rapunzel. No, she was just an ordinary girl, far removed from the fairy tale glamour.

Suddenly, a chilling voice echoed through the emptiness, cutting through the silence like a knife:

"You belong to me, Dove. You are trapped within my cage."

The laughter that followed was as sinister as that of a hunter reveling in the sight of his captured prey, reverberating through the sh

adows, igniting a sense of thrill and terror in the air.