SΞЯΞИDIPIΓУ VФL 2 - New Term

The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon of Aurembra, spilling a soft, golden glow across the meandering river that carved its way through the city like a ribbon of molten diamonds. In a small, cozy room, Ira lay snuggled against her brother Arin, both siblings lost in the serenity of sleep. Evangeline, their mother, quietly peeked into the room, her heart swelling at the tender sight. A smile lit her face—gentle and maternal—as she decided not to disturb their peaceful slumber. With careful steps, she backed out and went to tend to the morning chores.

Two hours later, a faint rustling broke the quiet as Ira slowly stirred awake. Her lashes fluttered open, and the first thing her sleepy gaze found was Arin’s face, softened by sleep. A giggle escaped her lips, warm and affectionate. "Bhai looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping," she whispered with a tender smile, her heart overflowing with sisterly love. "I never want to see sadness on his face… His birthday is next month. I’ll make it the best one ever," she vowed silently. Overcome with emotion, she leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a soft, protective hug. After lingering for a few precious seconds, she slowly began to untangle herself, careful not to wake him.

Just as she started to rise from the bed, a sudden warmth closed around her wrist—Arin’s hand, reaching out to her. Ira gasped softly in surprise. His voice, low and still thick with sleep, reached her ears. "Don't forget," he murmured, "next month, it's your birthday too."

Startled, Ira turned back to him, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Wait... were you awake? Or just talking in your sleep?" she asked, half-amused, half-embarrassed. 

Arin cracked open one eye, a teasing glint in his gaze. "I’m very much awake, Ira," he said with a mischievous smirk.

Ira puffed her cheeks in mock frustration. "How long have you been awake? And… did you hear everything I just said?" she demanded, feeling a warm blush creep up her neck.

"Not everything," Arin replied, stretching lazily. "Just bits and pieces."

Ira let out an exasperated groan, tugging her hand away. "Ugh! You’re impossible, bhai! You should be hurrying up for work, not lying here eavesdropping!" she scolded, flustered but affectionate.

Arin only chuckled softly, propping himself up on one elbow. "Sure, but... have you checked the time?" he asked with mock innocence.

Frowning suspiciously, Ira turned to glance at the clock—and gasped, her heart skipping a beat. "Oh no, it’s already eleven o'clock! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!" she exclaimed, now truly panicked.

Arin shrugged with a lazy grin. "You looked so thoughtful... I didn’t have the heart to interrupt," he said teasingly, his voice rich with brotherly affection. "Now, what were you saying about my birthday?"

Ira, flustered beyond measure, stomped her foot lightly. "That’s none of your business! And why were you listening to me anyway?!" she huffed, crossing her arms.

"I told you," Arin said with a laugh, rolling onto his back, "I wasn’t really listening. Just... dozing off."

"You’re so annoying," Ira muttered, trying but failing to hide her smile. "Mom’s going to be furious if she finds out you’re still lounging in bed."

"I know, I know," Arin said, pushing himself upright. "I’ll be downstairs before she even notices."

Ira gave him a skeptical look, one eyebrow arched. "We’ll see about that," she said, already heading toward the bathroom with a playful toss of her damp hair, leaving Arin chuckling behind her.

Both of them finally climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning in the warm, lazy light of the late morning. Arin freshened up first, slipping into a comfortable outfit before wandering down to the kitchen. Noticing that their mother was out, he decided, with a spark of determination, to surprise her by preparing breakfast. He worked with quiet focus, humming a soft tune under his breath as he cooked. By the time he finished setting the table, the kitchen smelled rich with the scent of fresh pancakes and brewed tea.

Just as he was wiping his hands on a towel, the front door creaked open and Evangeline returned, carrying bags of groceries in both arms. She blinked in surprise at the sight of her son bustling around the kitchen.

"Arin, you're up!" she exclaimed warmly, a smile blooming across her tired face. "Did you get ready already?"

"Yeah," Arin replied with an easy grin. "Ira and I woke up about an hour ago. She’s still getting ready."

Evangeline chuckled, setting the bags down on the counter. "I thought both of you were still asleep. And... did you make breakfast?" she asked, her voice lifting with pleasant disbelief.

"Yep," Arin said proudly. "Already done. You don’t have to worry about a thing."

Evangeline’s brows rose in wonder. "You made breakfast? That’s so sweet of you, but... how? We didn’t even have everything we needed," she said, glancing around curiously.

Arin shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I ordered a few things we were missing. Figured I’d surprise you."

Evangeline’s heart swelled at her son’s thoughtfulness. "You definitely surprised me," she said, her voice soft with affection. "Thank you, Arin. I’ll set the table, then."

Just then, Ira came bounding down the stairs, her steps light with energy, her damp hair clinging playfully to her cheeks.

"Mom, is breakfast ready? I’m starving!" she cried dramatically, her hands thrown up in exaggerated despair.

Arin laughed, shaking his head. "Easy there, little one. Breakfast is ready, but you don’t have to shout like a town crier."

"But I’m really hungry!" Ira whined, sticking out her tongue in mock desperation. "Look! My tongue’s practically begging for food!"

Arin chuckled at her antics and pulled out a chair for her. "Alright, tongue-twister, come and eat before you start reciting poems about starvation."

The family gathered around the table, the comforting clatter of plates and cutlery filling the kitchen as the delicious aroma wrapped around them like a hug. As they tucked into the warm breakfast, Evangeline brought up their plans for the day.

"After breakfast," she suggested, wiping her hands clean, "why don’t we head to the mall or the supermarket? We need to restock a lot of essentials."

Ira perked up immediately, her face lighting up. "Yeah, that sounds fun!"

Arin nodded thoughtfully between bites. "There’s that new store with good-quality stuff at a decent price. Plus, Ira needs a few supplies before school starts tomorrow, and I could use some things too."

"That’s a good idea," Evangeline agreed, pleased at how easily the plan came together. "We can get everything done in one trip."

"I’m in!" Ira chimed enthusiastically, already dreaming of browsing colorful aisles.

Arin smiled across the table. "Alright then, we’ll head out this afternoon. And while we’re at the mall," he added, a teasing gleam in his eye, "how about we grab some lunch afterward?"

"That sounds perfect!" Ira cheered, clapping her hands.

Their lighthearted banter, full of affection and easy laughter, wove a sense of warmth through the morning. As they prepared for a day filled with errands and shared meals, the bonds between them deepened—each small, simple moment quietly strengthening the love and connection that made them a family.

The clock chimed one in the afternoon, and the summer heat danced off the pavement outside their house. Arin sat slouched behind the wheel, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the dashboard, his patience wearing thinner by the second. With a grumble, he leaned hard on the horn, sending a loud, impatient honk through the still air.

"Let’s go already!" he called toward the house, his voice carrying a note of mock despair. "It’s afternoon! Do you both want to be late or what?"

From the doorway, Ira popped her head out, her hair bouncing around her shoulders as she hollered back, "Mom, hurry up! Bhai’s about to lose his mind!"

Evangeline, calmly checking a shopping list in one hand and locking the door with the other, didn’t even glance up. "You go ahead, Ira," she said, waving her off with a chuckle. "I’ll be there in five minutes."

"Alright, Mom!" Ira chirped. She skipped down the steps like a breeze, threw open the car door, and plopped herself down in the passenger seat next to Arin with a happy sigh. Fastening her seatbelt with a click, she leaned back and grinned at him like she owned the spot. "Bhai," she said sweetly, "Mom’s coming in a bit. We just have to wait."

Arin turned and gave her a flat look, his eyebrow quirking up. "Fine," he said, voice dripping with mock seriousness, "but why are you sitting here? This is Mom’s seat. Go sit in the back."

Ira gasped, clutching her chest in mock betrayal. "Why? I want to sit here with you!" she whined, sticking out her lower lip in a dramatic pout.

"Because," Arin said, gesturing firmly toward the backseat, "Mom always sits here. Not you."

"But I like sitting here," Ira insisted, widening her eyes innocently and tilting her head like a pleading puppy.

Before the standoff could escalate, Evangeline approached the car, sunglasses perched on her nose, catching the scene with an amused smirk. She rested one hand on the roof of the car and leaned in. "What’s going on now?" she asked, voice laced with half-laughter.

Ira wasted no time pointing a dramatic finger at Arin. "Mom! Bhai doesn’t want me to sit beside him! He says I have to move!"

Evangeline chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. "Arin," she said with that mom tone that brokered no arguments, "let her sit with you. I’ll sit in the back."

Arin frowned, casting a helpless glance toward his mother. "But, Mom..."

"No buts," she said firmly, opening the back door. "Ira stays where she is."

Next to him, Ira squealed in triumph, flashing a smug little smile. "Thanks, Mom! You’re the best!"

Arin slumped in defeat, shooting Ira a side-eye glare as he grumbled, "Okay, fine... but next time, I’m locking the doors early."

Ira giggled uncontrollably, bouncing a little in her seat. "Yay! Let’s go to the mall!" she shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

Arin couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as he started the engine. The car rumbled to life, and with a playful flick on Ira’s forehead that made her squeal in protest, he pulled out of the driveway — their lighthearted bickering fading into laughter as they sped toward an afternoon filled with family, shopping, and more teasing moments waiting to unfold.

Half an hour later, they rolled into the bustling mall. The parking basement buzzed with the hum of engines and distant voices, echoing off the concrete walls. Arin carefully maneuvered the car into a spot, the tires squeaking slightly as he parked.

"Ira, Mom, you two go ahead," Arin said, grabbing his keys and stretching a bit. "I’ll catch up after locking up properly."

Ira and Evangeline exchanged a quick nod and made their way toward the lift, their voices mingling with the clatter of shopping carts and footsteps.

Meanwhile, Arin, casually tossing his keys in the air, wasn’t paying close attention to his path. As he turned a corner sharply, BAM! — he collided head-first into someone coming from the opposite direction.

"Ow, my head!" Arin winced, clutching his forehead. "I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay—" His words froze as he caught sight of the person he had collided with.

"Arin?!" the girl gasped, blinking in disbelief.

"Anya?!" Arin's face lit up in recognition. "Yeah, it’s me! I’m so sorry... Are you alright?"

Anya gave a breathless laugh, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. "I’m fine! But you— you fell! Are you sure you’re okay?"

Arin staggered up, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, my head’s going to hold a grudge, but otherwise, I’ll live. What about you? You didn’t get hurt, did you?"

"No, no, I’m good!" Anya said quickly, wringing her hands with guilt. "It’s my fault too! I wasn’t paying attention either... I was too busy staring at my phone. I’m so sorry!"

Arin chuckled, waving it off. "Don’t sweat it. Honestly, I wasn’t exactly looking either."

Anya extended a hand toward him. "Here, let me help you up."

Arin grinned and accepted, feeling her firm but warm grip as she steadied him.

Once he was back on his feet, Anya crossed her arms with a playful scowl. "What are you doing wandering around the parking lot anyway?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Arin teased, nudging her arm lightly. "What were you looking at so intensely on your phone that you didn’t even see a moving human being? That’s a dangerous hobby, you know."

Anya giggled, her cheeks pink. "I know, I know. But I couldn’t help it... I just got a message I couldn't ignore!"

Arin raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh? Must’ve been pretty earth-shattering to risk a concussion."

Beaming, Anya clutched her phone to her chest like it was a treasure. "I got a promotion!"

Arin’s face lit up instantly, his earlier annoyance forgotten. "Really?! That’s incredible!" Without thinking, he pulled her into an excited hug, lifting her slightly off her feet for a moment.

Anya froze, wide-eyed, her face instantly flushing bright red. "A-Arin...!" she stammered, half laughing, half mortified. "You’re more excited than I am!"

Realizing what he'd done, Arin hastily released her, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "S-Sorry, I got carried away. But seriously, congrats again, Anya."

Anya laughed, covering her burning cheeks with her hands. "Thanks. I’ve been working so hard this year... and my boss finally noticed! He said my dedication and creativity really stood out."

Arin's grin softened into genuine pride. "You totally earned it. I’m happy for you."

"Thanks, Arin." She smiled warmly, her earlier embarrassment fading into a comfortable glow between them. "And don’t worry... I'll definitely watch where I’m walking from now on."

Arin chuckled. "Good. One head injury a day is my limit."

They stood there for a moment, the busy noise of the parking lot fading into the background.

"Well," Arin said, glancing toward the lift, "I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got some errands to run. Big shopping day with Mom and Ira."

Anya’s face lit up with an idea. "Wait— why don’t we celebrate together? Just for a bit? It’ll be fun!"

Arin blinked, slightly taken aback. "Celebrate with you? Are you sure?"

"Of course!" she insisted, nudging his shoulder playfully. "It’s not every day I get promoted. C’mon!"

Arin gave an apologetic smile, glancing toward the lift. "I'd love to, but I’m here with Mom and Ira today... I can't ditch them. How about tomorrow after lunch? I’m free then."

Anya’s face softened into an easy smile. "Tomorrow sounds perfect."

"Great," Arin said, backing toward the lift while pointing at her dramatically. "Tomorrow — be ready. We’re gonna celebrate properly!"

Anya giggled, waving as she turned to go. "Deal. Take care and have fun shopping!"

"Hey, that’s my line!" Arin laughed, and with a final grin at each other, they headed their separate ways, the air still buzzing with their laughter.

The elevator doors slid open onto the mall’s first floor, and Arin stepped out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The bright fluorescent lights glinted off polished tiles as shoppers bustled past in a colorful stream of bags and laughter. Spotting Ira and Evangeline by a display of handbags, he weaved through the crowd and approached with a breezy wave.

Ira’s eyes lit up the moment she saw him. She strode over, arms crossed in mock indignation, tapping one foot on the floor. “Bhai, why did you take so long to get here?” she demanded, arching an eyebrow.

Arin flashed a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, it’s nothing—I just couldn’t find a parking spot. That’s why I’m late.” He offered a theatrical shrug, and Ira rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Evangeline gave her daughter a knowing look and then turned to Arin with a warm smile. “Ira, have you found anything you like yet?” she asked, her tone gentle as she rested a hand on Ira’s shoulder.

Ira glanced at her mum, then back at the racks of scarves and trinkets. “Not yet, Mom,” she admitted, voice a little shy.

Arin cracked his knuckles playfully and leaned in, voice low and teasing. “You’re so slow at this, Ira! Just tell me what you want and I’ll hunt it down for you.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Ira brightened, launching into her list. “I need some accessories—like a canvas, a paint box... maybe a couple of pairs of shoes, too. That’s it.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing at her own indecision.

Evangeline chuckled softly, smoothing Ira’s hair. “That’s quite a list,” she said kindly, glancing at Arin.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Arin said, giving Evangeline a confident nod. “I saw a store with tons of art supplies earlier. I’ll grab all that stuff for her.” He winked at Ira.

“Thanks, Bhai!” Ira exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

Evangeline slipped an arm through Ira’s and guided her toward the shoe emporium, its window showcasing every style from sleek sneakers to glittering sandals. “Alright then,” she said, voice bright. “Ira, come with me to the shoe store. We’ll find those shoes you want.”

Arin raised his eyebrows hopefully. “Mom, can you get me a pair, too, please?” He flashed her a grin as he shouldered a backpack.

“Of course, honey,” Evangeline replied, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I know your size—and exactly the style you like. Don’t worry.” Her eyes twinkled with maternal confidence.

With that, Arin set off toward the art store—past neon signboards and window displays—his stride purposeful as he tucked his phone into his pocket. Meanwhile, Evangeline and Ira drifted down the corridor toward the shoe shop, the click of their heels punctuating their animated chatter.

An hour and a half later, the scent of sizzling stir-fries and warm naan wafted through the restaurant on the mall’s upper level. Arin slid into a booth by the window, dropping his shopping haul of sketch pads and paints beside him. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick message to Evangeline, "Mom, I got everything Ira needs. I’m at the restaurant waiting for you both. If you’re done shopping, come here soon so we can eat lunch."

He hit send, then leaned back against the booth’s cushioned backrest, rubbing his growling stomach with a rueful grin. A waiter scurried past carrying a platter of sizzling kebabs, and Arin’s mouth watered as he glanced around at the colorful menu boards.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a reply from Evangeline, "Okay, honey, we’ll be there in 15–20 minutes."

Arin let out a quiet sigh of relief, ran a hand over his neatly combed hair, and settled in to enjoy the warm ambiance—soft chatter blending with the distant mall music—knowing that soon the whole family would be reunited over a well-earned meal.

Arin sat comfortably in the booth, drumming his fingers lightly on the wooden table as the soft hum of conversations filled the cozy restaurant. A warm, spicy aroma drifted from the kitchen, making his stomach grumble in anticipation. He glanced up just as Evangeline and Ira bustled into the restaurant, their arms laden with colorful shopping bags.

The moment they reached the table, Ira let out an exaggerated sigh and dropped her bags dramatically onto a chair, while Evangeline placed hers down more neatly with a fond chuckle.

Arin leaned back, grinning widely. “Whoa! You guys got a lot of stuff!” he teased, raising an eyebrow at the pile of bags.

Evangeline shook her head, laughing softly. “It’s not that much. Just the essentials,” she said, smoothing out her scarf as she sat.

Arin shot her a mock-skeptical look. “Okay, if you say so.” Then he turned to Ira, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “So, tell me—did you get the shoes you were hunting for?”

Ira’s face lit up as she nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, bhai, I got them! Two pairs!”

Arin tilted his head curiously, folding his arms. “Wait—why do you suddenly need two pairs? Planning a fashion show or something?”

Ira giggled, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. “One pair’s for casual use... and the other’s for my trip!”

Arin’s smile faltered a bit. “Trip? What trip?” His tone was half-joking, half-genuinely surprised.

Evangeline smiled knowingly as she sipped water from the glass on the table. “It’s for her upcoming school trip. We finalized it just last week.”

Arin dramatically clutched his chest, making both Ira and Evangeline laugh. “Why am I always the last one to know these things?!”

Evangeline winked at him. “Because I’m her mother, and you're her big brother. Big brothers are supposed to be kept on their toes.”

Ira leaned in, resting her chin on her palms with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, bhai, you’re like a second parent to me anyway.”

Arin softened instantly, reaching out to ruffle her hair gently. “You’re lucky I’m not the strict type.”

Evangeline smiled warmly, her eyes shining with affection. “She’s right. You’re doing a wonderful job, Arin.”

Before Arin could respond, a waiter approached, carrying three large, steaming vegetarian platters. The sizzling aroma of roasted vegetables, seasoned rice, and buttered naan filled the air, making Ira’s stomach audibly growl.

Evangeline blinked in surprise. “Oh, food’s here already! But we haven’t ordered anything yet.”

Arin leaned back smugly in his chair, crossing his arms. “I already placed the order. Figured I’d save us some time.”

Ira’s face dropped slightly. “But bhai… I was craving pizza…” she said, her voice trailing off in a dramatic whine.

Arin gave her a teasing side glance. “Come on, Ira. Eat this. It's healthy. We’ve been indulging in junk food way too much lately. Gotta balance it out.”

Ira pouted, slumping a little in her seat.

Evangeline gently touched Ira’s arm. “He’s right, sweetheart. Let’s eat this now. It smells delicious, and we don’t want to waste food.”

Ira sighed heavily, then grabbed her fork with an exaggerated slump. “Okay, fiiine… but only for today.”

Arin chuckled and reached across the table, tapping her plate with his fork. “Deal. And—” he added with a wink, “I’ll get you your favorite ice cream on the way home. How about that?”

Ira’s eyes widened like a child promised a treasure. She sat up instantly, grinning. “That’s why you’re the best big brother ever!”

They dug into the meal, laughter and light-hearted chatter filling the space around their table. Between bites, they shared jokes, teased each other over who took the longest shopping trip, and traded little stories from the past week.

Later, true to his word, Arin stopped by an ice cream stand on their way home. He handed out three colorful cones—chocolate for Ira, vanilla for Evangeline, and pistachio for himself. As they walked to the car, the setting sun bathed the parking lot in soft gold, and the evening breeze carried their easy laughter into the warm air.

An hour later, the car pulled into their driveway. Tired but content, the little family spilled out of the car, shopping bags in hand, ice cream smudges on their smiles, carrying home not just goods, but memories woven tightly with love and simple, joyful moments.

After a long but joyful day, Arin, Ira, and Evangeline tumbled into the cozy embrace of their living room. The scent of fresh upholstery and faint vanilla from a nearby candle filled the air. The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the windows, bathing the room in a warm, honeyed glow.

Arin flopped onto the couch with a grin and handed out the colorful ice cream cones he'd picked up earlier. “Here you go—one for each of us! The perfect way to end a great day,” he said, waving the cones theatrically like a magician presenting his grand finale.

Ira beamed as she snatched hers, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thanks, bhai! You always know how to make everything better,” she said, plopping down beside him, swinging her legs playfully.

Evangeline chuckled warmly, settling into the armchair across from them, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You both make my day better just by being yourselves,” she said, her voice soft with affection.

They each took a slow, satisfied bite of their ice cream, the room falling into a comfortable, companionable silence—the kind only shared by those who knew and loved each other deeply. The gentle ticking of the wall clock and the occasional chirp of birds outside created a peaceful soundtrack to the moment.

Ira broke the quiet first, licking her cone and smiling dreamily. “I had so much fun today. I love our little trips to the mall,” she said, her voice rich with contentment.

Arin nudged her with his elbow, raising a brow. “You mean you love getting all the stuff you want!” he teased, pretending to look scandalized.

Ira giggled, scrunching her nose. “Okay, maybe a little of both! But really—” she leaned her head against Arin’s shoulder, “—I love spending time with you guys.”

Evangeline watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with emotion. “Me too, sweetie. It’s the little moments we share that matter the most.”

Arin nodded, his tone turning a bit more serious. “Yeah… we should do this more often. Just the three of us. No rushing, no distractions.”

Evangeline sighed, a wistful note in her voice. “Life gets so busy sometimes. It’s easy to forget how important it is to slow down and just... be together.”

Ira sat up, her face lighting up with excitement. “Let’s plan a family day next weekend! We can do something super fun together.”

Arin’s face brightened immediately. “That sounds perfect. Maybe a movie marathon? Or a picnic at the park?”

Evangeline clapped her hands softly, delighted. “I love the idea of a picnic! We’ll pack some snacks, bring a blanket... enjoy the fresh air.”

Ira bounced on the couch, nearly dropping her ice cream. “And we can play games! I wanna show you both my new frisbee skills!”

Arin laughed, covering his face in mock fear. “I can’t wait to see that—just don’t knock me out with it, okay?”

They all burst into laughter, the pure, ringing sound filling every corner of the room, wrapping them in a bubble of joy and togetherness.

Evangeline leaned back, her gaze warm and misty. “This... This is what happiness feels like. Just us, together.”

Ira looked between her mom and brother, her heart full. “I love you both so much,” she whispered.

Arin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. “We love you, too, little Ira. You’re the brightest part of our family.”

Evangeline wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye, smiling through it. “And you both are my heart. No matter what life throws at us, let’s promise always to keep this bond strong.”

Outside, the sun kissed the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange, pink, and soft purple. Inside, their laughter and love glowed even warmer.

After a few more minutes of enjoying their ice creams, Evangeline patted her lap and stood up. “Alright, why don’t you two relax while I make some tea? It’ll help us wind down for the night.”

Ira leaped up eagerly, wiping her sticky hands on a napkin. “I’ll help, Mom!” she chirped, hopping toward the kitchen with a little skip in her step.

Evangeline chuckled, waiting for Ira to catch up, then glanced over her shoulder at Arin.

Arin stayed behind on the couch, his phone resting loosely in his hand. He wasn't really scrolling anymore—just occasionally glancing at the screen, but mostly gazing out the window. The last blush of sunlight slipped below the skyline, and as he watched, a peaceful smile curved his lips.

Today has been busy, filled with errands and little stresses. But in the end, moments like these—simple, real, and full of love—were the ones he would carry forever.

The house felt alive with warmth, laughter, and the simple magic of being together.

A few minutes later, Ira and Evangeline came back with three cups of tea and set them on the coffee table. They all settled in the living room together, sipping their tea quietly at first, just enjoying each other’s presence.

The clinking of cups and the faint hiss of the kettle filled the kitchen as Ira helped Evangeline prepare the evening tea. Ira, standing on tiptoe, reached into the cupboard to grab the ceramic mugs—each with their own little history. Evangeline’s had delicate floral patterns, Arin’s was a faded superhero one from years ago, and Ira's mug read “Little Storm” in bold blue letters—an old nickname her brother had given her.

Evangeline moved with ease, the familiarity of her kitchen soothing her after the long day. She poured the hot, fragrant tea into the mugs, the steam curling upwards and filling the air with the comforting aroma of cardamom and ginger.

“I’ll take them out, Mom,” Ira chirped, carefully picking up two of the mugs.

“Slowly, sweetie. They’re hot,” Evangeline gently reminded her, placing the third cup on a tray and a small plate of biscuits.

Back in the living room, Arin was still lounging, now with his feet stretched out on the coffee table, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The living room lights were dimmed, and the amber glow from the table lamp gave the room a dreamlike warmth.

“Here comes the tea squad!” Ira announced proudly as she entered, making a little trumpet sound with her lips. Arin chuckled as she handed him his mug, then flopped beside him again.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair.

Evangeline followed behind with the tray and set it down on the center table. She settled into her usual chair, cupping the warm mug in her hands, breathing in the aroma before taking a slow sip. “This is perfect,” she murmured. “Just what we needed.”

They sipped in silence for a moment, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Outside, the world had gone quiet. The sky was now blanketed in navy and stars, and the gentle hum of the ceiling fan above gave the moment a rhythm.

Ira reached for a biscuit and dipped it in her tea. “Mmm… this is what I call a good ending to a good day,” she said through a bite, swinging her legs.

Arin leaned his head back against the couch, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah... No calls, no errands, no stress. Just tea and peace.”

Evangeline smiled, watching her children with quiet pride. “I don’t need a perfect life,” she said softly. “Just moments like this.”

Ira looked up, her face glowing. “Can we make this our new tradition? Ice cream after outings, and tea before bedtime?”

“Deal,” Arin said, raising his mug like a toast.

“To traditions,” Evangeline echoed, clinking her cup gently against theirs.

They sat together a little while longer, sipping slowly, lost in the comforting hum of family. No one rushed. There was no urgency—just the warmth of their tea, the echo of their laughter, and the soft closeness of people who knew they were exactly where they belonged.

And somewhere in the background, the clock ticked gently forward, marking time not as a countdown, but as a quiet witness to a perfect evening.

There was a quiet stillness in the room now—a pause between breaths—soft and sacred. No one spoke for a while, but there was no need to. The silence between them wasn't empty; it was full of gratitude, understanding, and the kind of love that didn’t need words to be felt. The golden lamp light flickered gently across their faces, casting shadows that danced along the walls like memories.

Ira blinked slowly, her head beginning to tilt against Arin’s shoulder. “I’m getting sleepy,” she mumbled, her voice low and drowsy, eyes half-lidded.

Evangeline smiled, reaching over to stroke a lock of Ira’s hair behind her ear. “It’s been a long day for all of us,” she said softly. “Why don’t we call it a night?”

“Yeah,” Arin agreed, stretching with a yawn, his arms lazily raised above his head. “My bed’s calling me.”

They rose together, the couch letting out a soft sigh under their weight. As if in rhythm, each picked up their empty cup and headed toward the kitchen. The light clink of ceramic and the soft splash of water in the sink were the final sounds of the day.

In the warm glow of the kitchen, Evangeline pulled both her children into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around them like a protective cocoon.

“Sleep well, both of you,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Ira’s forehead, then to Arin’s cheek. “I love you.”

Ira, now leaning into her mother’s hug, smiled sleepily. “Love you too, Mom.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” Arin added, his voice calm and filled with quiet affection. "Thanks for today."

They parted with a soft reluctance, each stepping into the shadows of the hallway, lit faintly by the soft wall sconces. The house, once full of chatter and movement, now embraced the hush of the night.

In the room, Ira nestled beneath her blanket, pulling it up to her chin with a contented sigh. The weight of the day melted away, replaced by a deep sense of comfort. She turned to her side, her gaze drifting toward the faint outline of her dreamcatcher hanging near the window, swaying slightly in the breeze.

Meanwhile, Arin slipped under the sheets. But after a moment, he got up and sat on the edge of her bed, and wrapped his arms gently around her in a protective hug. 

“Bhai?” she murmured.

"Just wanted to hug you," he whispered in her ear.

“Just wanted to say goodnight properly,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ira replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

He stayed for a while longer, until her breathing slowed and sleep carried her away. Then he gently tucked her in and as he settled back into bed, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting his thoughts wander—memories of laughter, soft teasing, shared meals, the way his mother smiled when she looked at them. These were the pieces of life he’d carry with him always.

Outside, the moon bathed the house in silver light. Crickets sang their quiet lullaby, and the world exhaled. Inside, everything was still, peaceful, whole.

The day had been filled with errands and energy, but now, in the stillness of the night, love wrapped around the walls like a soft blanket. And no matter what tomorrow brought, they knew—deep in their bones—that they had each other.

And that, truly, is enough.

The house was still cloaked in darkness when Arin stirred awake. A faint amber glow from the streetlights filtered through the curtains, casting gentle lines across the room. Blinking against the soft shadows, he turned his head slightly to find Ira curled up in her blanket, her breath rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. Her face rested serenely against the pillow, a faint, almost childlike smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Arin smiled to himself—a soft, protective smile—then quietly slid out of bed, careful not to disturb her. The floorboards creaked faintly under his feet as he padded out of the room and into the bathroom. The splash of cold water, the muted sound of a toothbrush tapping the sink—it was the start of another day, but this one felt special.

By 4:30 a.m., he was already in the kitchen, tying an apron over his T-shirt, sleeves rolled up. The air filled with the comforting aromas of toasted bread, simmering lentils, and cumin-scented potatoes. The kitchen glowed warmly, the soft clatter of utensils and bubbling pots forming a quiet symphony of morning life.

Once the final touches were done and the food set to rest, Arin wiped his hands and headed upstairs. He entered their room with a familiar lightness.

“Ira,” he whispered, gently nudging her shoulder, “wake up. It’s already 5:00 a.m.”

She groaned and pulled the blanket tighter over her head. “Let me sleep a little longer, bhai... It’s just five. No disasters are happening this early.”

He chuckled. “Disasters? What are you dreaming about? Come on, sleepyhead—you don’t want to be late for your first day of the new school session, do you?”

Ira peeked from under the blanket, her hair a tousled mess and her eyes squinting at the dim light. “Fine, fine... but you know I need food right after I wake up. My stomach’s going to start singing a solo.”

“Breakfast is almost ready, drama queen. Now get up before I drag you out with the blanket.”

“Okay, okay... I’m going,” she grumbled with a reluctant grin, shuffling toward the bathroom like a sleepy little penguin.

Arin smirked and moved on to their mother’s room. He tapped lightly on her door before opening it.

“Mom,” he said softly, “rise and shine—it’s 5 a.m.”

From the bed, Evangeline’s voice rose sleepily. “Arin... It’s just five. What’s the rush?”

Arin folded his arms. “First, Ira, now you. What is with this 'cling-to-the-bed' syndrome? Come on, Mom. We’ve got breakfast waiting!”

Evangeline groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. “Alright, alright... give me forty, fifty minutes.”

“Nope. Twenty minutes and you’re downstairs. That’s an executive order,” he said, pointing a playful finger at her.

She peeked at him through one eye. “You’ve gotten bossy lately!”

“Bossy and efficient,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

Back in the kitchen, the scent of the finished meal filled the air like a warm hug. Arin uncovered the serving dishes and began setting the table in the living room, where golden morning light had started to seep through the sheer curtains.

Moments later, Ira came bouncing down the stairs in fresh clothes, her hair brushed back in a loose ponytail, energy restored.

“Bhai! Where’s breakfast? I’m starving!” she declared dramatically, flopping onto the couch.

Arin looked up from his phone, feigning surprise. “Don’t you see it? It’s right there on the table.”

She raised an eyebrow and inspected the table. “Oh really? Do you mean these empty plates? Are we eating air today?”

He grinned. “The food’s in the bowl under the lid, smartypants. Be patient—Mom’s serving. Now come sit.”

She flopped beside him, legs crisscrossed on the couch. “Fine, but what are you even doing on your phone?”

“Just scrolling through some stuff. Want to see?”

She shook her head. “Nah. I don’t like gadgets much. Everyone’s always lost in their screens. It’s like... people forget the ones sitting right in front of them.”

Her voice was soft but earnest, her brows slightly furrowed with concern beyond her years.

Arin looked at her, his expression tender. “You’re right. It does get like that. But sometimes, we need these things—just like we need to talk, or read, or connect. It’s about how you use it.”

Ira nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But social media? That stuff’s the worst. People are so addicted... they forget what’s real.”

Arin set his phone down on the couch. “I get it. That’s why I keep myself grounded.”

She tilted her head. “How?”

He smiled and gently ruffled her hair. “You, Mom, Aunt Claire... spending time with you guys. That’s what keeps me real. That’s what matters.”

Her eyes softened, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I love you, bhai. You’re the best.”

He looked down at her with warmth in his eyes. “I love you, too, my little pie.”

In that early morning quiet—before the clamor of the day, before the world truly woke, they shared a moment of deep, unspoken connection. The smell of breakfast lingered in the air, soft footsteps approached from the hallway, and their home was alive with something stronger than routine: love.

Just then, soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Evangeline entered the room, her presence as calming as the morning sun filtering through the lace curtains. Dressed in a soft blue robe, her hair loosely pinned back, she smiled warmly at her children, catching the tail end of their playful banter.

She slipped into her seat at the table and raised an amused eyebrow.
“Did you make a pie, Arin?” she asked with a sly smile.

Arin blinked, momentarily confused. “No, Mom... why would you think that?”

Evangeline chuckled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I heard some ‘pie’ talk going on in here.”

Ira, mid-sip of water, giggled. “Bhai was just calling me his ‘little pie.’”

Evangeline leaned in, cupping Ira’s cheek affectionately. “Well, you are a cutie pie.”

Ira scrunched up her nose in protest, arms crossed. “I’m not a pie, Mom! I’m Ira!”

Arin grinned, tapping the edge of her plate with a spoon. “Alright, alright. Stop playing around and eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Ira huffed with theatrical exaggeration. “But Mom hasn’t served it yet!”

With a chuckle, Evangeline rose and reached for the covered dishes on the table. “Let me do the honors then.” As she removed the lid, a savory steam wafted up into the air. Her eyes lit up in surprise. “Oh! Pasta? You made pasta, Arin?”

Arin nodded, folding his arms modestly. “Yeah. Yesterday, Ira wasn’t too thrilled about the veggies, so I figured I’d make something she actually loves.”

Ira beamed, rocking back and forth in her chair. “See? Told you! Bhai, you’re the best!”

Evangeline looked between them, a warmth blooming in her chest. “You always know what she needs—even before she says it.”

Arin shrugged playfully, his smile soft. “Maybe I do.”

They dug in, the table quickly filling with light chatter and the clinking of cutlery. Evangeline passed around juice while Ira animatedly described the new teacher she was hoping to meet. Laughter rang out here and there—bright and genuine. The kind of laughter that only grows from years of shared love.

Outside, the sun had fully risen, bathing the room in golden light. Time moved gently.

About half an hour later, Arin grabbed his car keys and called out through the hallway.

“Ira! If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

From upstairs came the sound of hurried footsteps and the soft thud of a closing drawer. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” she called, her voice breathless.

She finally burst out the front door, adjusting the strap on her backpack as she jogged down the steps.

From the porch, Evangeline stood with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look only mothers had perfected.
“What took you so long?” she asked, though her tone held more fondness than reproach.

Ira groaned, blowing a strand of hair from her forehead. “My hair wouldn’t dry properly—even with the dryer. It was a battle.”

Evangeline’s expression softened immediately. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve helped.”

Ira paused, her gaze dropping slightly. “Sorry, Mom. I was rushing and just... forgot. But next time, I’ll call you. Promise.”

Arin opened the passenger door for her. “Can we go now?” he said with a teasing smirk.

Evangeline stepped closer, brushing a hand over Ira’s shoulder as she leaned in slightly. “Yes, yes. Take care, both of you—and have fun.”

As Arin walked to the driver’s side, he turned back momentarily. “Mom, I might be a little late today. There’s something important I need to take care of. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”

Ira squinted at him curiously as she buckled in. “Where’d this ‘important work’ come from all of a sudden?”

Arin met her eyes in the rearview mirror, his tone light but purposeful. “I’ll tell you both later.” Then he turned to their mother. “Mom, can you pick up Ira from school today?”

Evangeline nodded without hesitation. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks, Mom. We’re off now.”

With that, the engine started, and the car pulled gently away from the house, the driveway echoing with the sound of rubber on gravel. Ira leaned her head against the window, watching the familiar streets pass by in a blur of morning light. Neither of them spoke for a while—just the hum of the engine and the shared silence that only close siblings understand.

As Arin pulled up to the school gate, he glanced at her. “Have a great first day, Ira.”

She looked over, smiled, and gave him a quick side hug before grabbing her bag. “Thanks, Bhai. Love you.”

“Love you too. Now go show the world what you’re made of.”

She laughed and skipped toward the school entrance, waving one last time before disappearing inside. Arin watched until she was out of sight, then sighed softly, shifted gears, and drove off—his heart full, his mind quietly preparing for whatever this “important work” ahead would bring.

Arin arrived at the office just before 7:50 a.m., the city still stretching into its full rhythm. The sun streamed through the tall glass windows of the building’s lobby, catching the shimmer of his ID badge as he entered. Everything felt familiar—routine. The echo of his footsteps down the corridor, the soft hum of the AC, the quiet nods exchanged with early-arriving employees.

But as he pushed open the door to his cabin, something immediately felt different.

On his sleek, dark wooden desk lay a single envelope—neatly placed, stark against the polished surface. He froze for a moment, his keys still in hand, eyes narrowing. The handwriting on the envelope was unmistakable. Myra.

His heart gave a small, uncertain thud.

Arin slowly walked over, set his bag aside, and picked up the letter with a slight tremor in his fingers. The paper felt oddly heavier than it should. He unfolded it carefully, and as his eyes scanned the words, a quiet stillness took over the room.

Hey Arin, how are you? I hope you're well. I'm writing this because I need you to know that I’m not doing great right now. The BOD and I would like you to handle the company for a few weeks. You can work from home if you want, no problem at all. Also, starting next month, a meeting of the BOD will be held, and it’s mandatory for you to attend. I know you’ve made some decisions about that, and I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. Take care and see you soon.
— Myra

He lowered the letter slowly, a heavy silence falling over him. For a long moment, he didn’t move.

“Why all of a sudden?” he muttered to himself, pressing his fingers to his temple. His voice, though quiet, cracked slightly. “I’m not ready for this. I was going to step up... eventually. But not now. Not yet.”

He glanced back down at the letter, brows furrowed. “Handling the company is one thing... but attending those BOD meetings?” He stood still, conflicted, his reflection caught faintly in the window glass behind him. “That’s a whole different story.”

But even as his mind spun with doubts, he straightened his back, folding the letter neatly. He tucked it into his inner jacket pocket, exhaled a shaky breath, and walked toward the door.

The open floor outside his cabin buzzed with quiet activity—keyboards clicking, low conversations, the clinking of coffee mugs. As Arin stepped out, his posture transformed. The hesitation in his shoulders melted into practiced confidence. His lips curled into a calm, easy smile, masking the storm behind his eyes.

He clapped his hands lightly, drawing attention.

“Good morning, everyone!” he called out.

Heads turned, and a few employees paused mid-task.

“As some of you might already know, Ms. Myra is currently unwell and taking some time to rest.” He glanced around, voice steady but warm. “In her absence, she—and the Board of Directors—have asked me to manage the company for the next few weeks.”

There was a hush of surprise that quickly turned into murmurs of approval.

“If anyone has concerns or objections,” Arin added with a light chuckle, trying to keep the atmosphere relaxed, “please feel free to take it up with the BOD directly.”

There was a pause—and then a ripple of voices:

“No objections at all, sir!”
“We’re with you!”
“Glad you’re taking the lead!”

A few even clapped softly, nodding in support.

Arin smiled genuinely this time, his heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you. That means a lot. Let’s all continue doing our best, together.”

As the team returned to their tasks, Arin stepped back into his cabin and slowly closed the door behind him. The cheerful energy from just moments ago dissolved as the quiet reclaimed the space.

He sank into his chair, shoulders sinking along with him.

He pulled the letter out again and stared at it, his thumb tracing the edge absentmindedly. The weight of expectation loomed over him now—not just from the board, but from Myra, the woman who had mentored him, believed in him... and now, trusted him with everything.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes fluttering shut briefly. In that moment, the office felt bigger, colder, quieter. The hum of the ceiling fan seemed louder than usual. A thousand thoughts swirled in his head, and yet one stuck with him, as steady as his heartbeat:

“What would Myra do in this situation?”

And maybe, just maybe, it was time he found out what he would do.

Meanwhile, at Fountain Research Institute...

The bell rang gently, echoing through the marble-floored hallways as the morning sunlight streamed in through the arched windows, bathing the campus in golden warmth. Ira stepped into her classroom, her ponytail swinging with every stride, her eyes immediately scanning the room until they landed on a familiar figure.

There he was—Kian, seated at the far end of the room near the window, hunched slightly over his desk, his face calm but distant. The morning light caught the soft curl of his hair as he absentmindedly traced patterns on the edge of his notebook.

Ira’s lips curled into a knowing smile. She walked over to him, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished floor.

"Hey, Kian," she said brightly, sliding into the seat beside him. "Sitting alone again?"

Kian glanced up, his expression softening as he met her gaze. "Yeah... as always," he replied, offering a shy smile.

"I thought after ranking so high last term, people would be lining up to sit next to you. But clearly, I was wrong." She teased, nudging his arm lightly with her elbow.

Kian gave a low chuckle, then shook his head. "I did well, yeah… but most of them think I cheated. They say you probably helped me sneak answers. So… they’ve been keeping their distance."

The lightness in her face faded for a moment, replaced by quiet indignation.

"That’s ridiculous. I saw how hard you studied. You earned that score, Kian. Don’t let them make you doubt that." Her voice was firm, but her eyes were kind. She smiled again, this time with more warmth. "Mind if I sit here?"

He gestured to the seat with a small laugh. "Of course, Ira. Please do."

Ira plopped down dramatically and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head like a carefree rebel. "It’s the first day of the new session. I’m so pumped! Feels like a fresh start."

"Yeah," Kian nodded, glancing around at the half-filled room. "I just wonder if I’ll make any new friends this year."

She turned her head toward him with a dramatic gasp. "New friends? What’s wrong with the ones you have? Am I not entertaining enough for you?" she joked, raising an eyebrow.

Kian chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, no, you’re great! I just meant… it’d be nice to have a bigger circle, you know?" Then, as if remembering something suddenly, he reached into his bag. "Oh! Did you get your trip guidebook yet?"

"Wait—what guidebook?" Ira blinked, intrigued.

"Ms. Rumi gave it to me earlier. I think she’ll hand yours out soon, too."

"Can I see yours for a bit?" she leaned closer, curious.

At that very moment, the door clicked open and Ms. Rumi entered the classroom, clipboard in hand, her eyes sharp and focused like always. Her footsteps were light but commanding.

"Ira," she said sternly, having clearly overheard the last bit, "no one is allowed to look at anyone else's guidebook. They’re sealed for a reason."

Ira sat up straighter, blinking. "But why, ma’am? What’s so secret about them?"

Ms. Rumi offered a cryptic smile. "There are specific activities and assignments in there that you’ll be completing throughout the year. If you open it now or damage it—no school trips. And remember, no replacements. One copy per student."

The classroom murmured with low chatter, students exchanging nervous looks.

"We’ll remember that, ma’am," the class chorused, half-sincere, half-curious.

"Good," Ms. Rumi nodded. "Now, let’s begin. Open your English Literature books to page one. Who would like to read the opening lines?"

There was a pause.

Then Kian raised his hand, his voice calm but firm. "I’d like to, ma’am."

Ms. Rumi gave a nod of approval. "Go ahead, Kian."

Ira slumped slightly in her chair, muttering under her breath, "I wanted to read it too..." but she stayed silent, listening as Kian read with clarity and poise, his voice filling the room like a calm river.

After about half an hour, Ms. Rumi closed her book. "That’s enough for today. The rest is for homework. Make sure you read ahead."

"Okay, ma’am," the class echoed.

Ira leaned toward Kian as the class dispersed. "Hey, what’s our next class again?"

Kian grinned. "You forgot already? It’s science."

Ira scoffed. "I didn’t forget! I just didn’t check the daybook. Big difference."

He gave her a playful smirk. "Sure, sure."

By lunchtime, the two had barely survived five back-to-back classes. As the bell rang again, releasing them from academic torment, Ira stretched dramatically and sighed.

"Hey, Kian, want to eat in the garden today? I seriously need air—fresh, green, earthy air."

Kian laughed. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Let’s go."

They wandered out to the campus garden, where the soft rustle of leaves and chirping birds greeted them. They found a quiet spot beneath a wide, leafy tree. The shade was cool, the grass damp but refreshing beneath them.

Ira flopped down and opened her lunchbox with a contented sigh. "You know... I bet our big sis and bro are having lunch under a tree too—somewhere, in their own corner of the world."

Kian smiled, nodding. "And sharing food, as usual. That’s their thing."

"What did you bring?" she asked, peeking over curiously.

"Spicy veggies with soy sauce and mayo," Kian replied, opening his box with a puff of savory steam.

"Ooh, sounds fancy. I brought spaghetti with chili sauce. Want some?"

Kian shook his head with a grin. "Nah, I’m a veggie guy, remember?"

"Suit yourself," Ira shrugged, taking a big bite.

After a few peaceful minutes of chewing and chatting, Ira glanced at her watch.

"So... we’ve got a free period after this, right? What are we doing?"

Kian wiped his hands on a napkin and stretched. "How about basketball?"

Ira raised an eyebrow. "You play basketball?"

"Yeah. I’m actually pretty good at it," he replied with a small, proud grin.

"Then why didn’t you join the club?"

His smile faded a bit. "I hurt my leg during trials. Bad timing. I couldn’t finish the tryouts."

Her expression softened immediately. "Oh no… I’m sorry. I didn’t know."

Kian shrugged. "It’s fine. Just... bad luck."

She nudged him gently. "Well, no excuses today. Let’s play! Do you think the court will be free?"

"Yeah," he said, perking up again. "I heard practice is postponed because of the interschool tournament."

"Perfect," Ira beamed, standing up and brushing grass from her skirt. "Let’s go show them what we’re made of!"

Together, they walked off toward the court, their laughter trailing behind them—two friends, stepping into the rhythm of a brand new year.

The office had fallen silent by 13:00, the hum of chatter replaced by the quiet rustle of paperwork and the soft ticking of the wall clock. Everyone had left, their desks abandoned, but Arin remained—his fingers still flying across the keyboard with steady purpose. Determined to finish everything before stepping away, he dove into the final tasks with quiet efficiency. By 14:00, he leaned back in his chair, exhaled deeply, and finally shut his laptop with a soft click.

Outside, the warm afternoon sun greeted him as he stepped into the gentle embrace of the park. He found his usual spot under a broad, leafy tree—the same one that caught golden beams of light between its swaying branches. Sitting on the bench beneath it, he loosened his tie, letting the breeze brush against his face. The rustling leaves and distant laughter of children were calming, but his fingers drummed restlessly on his thigh as he checked his phone again.

Buzz. A message lit up the screen—it was from Anya.

Anya: I'm sorry, Arin. I'll be there in just 10 minutes. Do you have your car?

Arin smirked to himself, his thumb hovering briefly before he typed back with a hint of playfulness.

Arin: Yes, I have my car.

Another message came through almost instantly.

Anya: That's great! Just wait a few more minutes.

Arin let out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth curling upward as he leaned back on the bench, sunlight filtering through the leaves and dancing on his face.

Arin: Come fast, I'm waiting.

He sent the message with a grin and slipped the phone back into his pocket, his eyes still scanning the path ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of her approaching. Though the park was peaceful, the anticipation in his chest pulsed with quiet energy—like the calm just before a spark.

Arin let out a long sigh, tilting his head back against the bench, the wooden slats cool beneath him despite the warm afternoon. His hand dipped into his satchel, fingers brushing over papers, keys, and finally landing on the familiar crinkle of a chocolate bar—one Ira had insisted he take this morning. With a small smile tugging at his lips, he unwrapped it slowly. The sweet, earthy scent of cocoa floated up, instantly comforting. He was about to take a bite when—

Two soft hands slipped over his eyes from behind, and his breath hitched in surprise.

“Guess who?” came a teasing whisper near his ear, the voice unmistakably hers—light, playful, laced with a grin.

Without missing a beat, Arin smirked. “Hmm… I think it’s the washerwoman from next door!”

Anya gasped and jumped around to face him, eyes wide in dramatic shock. “What?! Did you just call me a washerwoman? Do my hands feel that rough to you?”

Arin chuckled, biting into his chocolate with exaggerated innocence. “Relax, I was just kidding. Come on, sit down.”

She plopped beside him with a huff, folding her arms and scooting close enough that their knees touched. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, trying to maintain her pout—until her eyes locked onto the chocolate in his hand.

“And you're literally the worst! Your best friend is sitting right here, and you're eating chocolate alone?”

Arin held up what remained of the bar with a sheepish grin. “I only had one, and I’m already halfway through it. I figured offering you leftover chocolate would be... disrespectful.”

Anya snatched the remaining piece with mock offense. “So what? We share everything! Even lunchboxes! Why not half-melted chocolate?”

“You sure about that?” he teased, watching her eyes gleam mischievously.

She popped it in her mouth and nodded with satisfaction. “Absolutely. And it’s delicious.”

Arin chuckled, brushing a crumb from his lap, then leaned back with a sigh. “But seriously, why were you so late? I was starving, waiting for you.”

Anya’s playful tone softened. “I’m really sorry, Arin. Work got hectic. Ever since the promotion, everything's moving faster—I’ve got my own team now, and I’m still figuring it all out.”

He turned to her, brows raising slightly in understanding. “Oh, I get it. Same thing happened to me today.”

She tilted her head, curiosity lighting her face. “Really? What happened?”

“First—let’s get some food. I’m on the verge of collapse here,” he groaned dramatically, clutching his stomach.

Anya laughed and stood. “Oh, right, me too! Go grab the car. I’ll wait here.”

Arin paused. “Wait, you didn’t bring your car?”

She gave him a sly smile. “Of course not. How else would we get to spend more time together?”

He blinked, then chuckled under his breath. “Clever. My car’s just outside the park. Let’s go.”

Moments later, they were cruising down the road, windows slightly open as the breeze tousled Anya’s hair. They found a cozy little restaurant with fairy lights dangling from the ceiling and a soft hum of music in the background. Settling into a booth by the window, they ordered two steaming bowls of noodles. The rich aroma of spices—ginger, garlic, chili—wafted over as they waited, stomachs rumbling in harmony.

The quiet between them was warm, comfortable.

“Alright,” Anya said, stirring her water absentmindedly, “spill it. What happened at work?”

Arin exhaled slowly. “My manager, Ms. Myra, sent me a letter. She’s unwell. Asked me to handle the company in her absence. The board agreed... so now I’m managing the place and attending BOD meetings.”

Anya’s eyes widened in amazement. “What?! That’s huge! Congratulations, Arin!”

He gave a half-smile, shoulders slumping a bit. “Thanks. But honestly, it’s a lot. It all happened so fast, and I’m not even sure I’m ready for this.”

Anya reached across the table, her hand brushing his briefly. “You’ll be fine. Seriously. You’ve always been a natural at this stuff. Everything happens for a reason.”

Just then, their bowls arrived, steaming and fragrant. Anya clapped her hands excitedly.

“This smells so good! And spicy—just the way I like it.”

Arin eyed the fiery red broth skeptically. “I hate spicy food… but it does look delicious.”

As they ate, the spice quickly got to him. He winced, chugged water, and wiped his brow while Anya giggled behind her spoon. They laughed between bites, tears from the heat streaming down his cheeks as he fought bravely through it.

Finally, full and breathless from laughter, they stepped back into the evening air.

“Okay,” Arin said, clutching his stomach, “you drive now. I need a break after that spice attack.”

Anya grinned smugly. “What? Too hot for the mighty Arin? Fine. I’ll drive.”

She took the wheel, and they headed to their next destination: a quaint little ice cream parlor tucked away on a quiet street corner. As they walked in, the cool air kissed their skin, and the scent of vanilla and rose petals lingered in the air.

Arin ordered without hesitation. “Two grand gulkand specials, please.”

Anya raised her brows in delight. “You always have the best taste in ice cream. Gulkand’s my favorite too.”

He winked. “I know. That’s why I ordered it.”

They sat by the glass, watching people stroll by as they enjoyed the chilled sweetness. As the cold touched his lips, Arin’s mind drifted.

“It’s almost time for Ira and Kian to get out of school. I feel kinda guilty—we’re out here having fun without them.”

Anya reached over, brushing a melting drop off his thumb. “Don’t worry. Sometimes, you need a little time for yourself, too.”

He nodded slowly. “I just hope Mom picks Ira up on time.”

“She will. And don’t worry—I already arranged Kian’s pickup too.”

After they finished, Anya’s eyes lit up at the sight of a nearby game parlor.

“Come on! One last stop. Look—they have a pool table! I’ve never played pool before.”

Arin hesitated, but her grin was contagious. “Fine. But don’t cry when I win.”

Inside, neon lights reflected off polished floors as they bounced from game to game—pool, virtual basketball, even a claw machine. Laughter echoed between them, playful trash talk and high-fives filling the evening. Anya’s pool skills were clumsy but hilarious, while Arin found himself impressively lucky.

By the time they finally checked the clock, it was nearing 20:00.

“It’s getting late, Anya. We should head home.”

She pouted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wish this day didn’t have to end.”

He smiled softly. “I know. But we’ll do it again soon.”

With arms full of small prizes—mostly won by Arin—they walked back to the car. As they drove through the dusky streets, the city lights began to twinkle.

Reaching the 5th street of Wind-rise Colony, Anya placed a hand on his arm.

“Arin, stop the car, please.”

He glanced at her. “Why here? It’s still a bit far from your place.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt with a soft smile. “From here, I can walk. It’s peaceful, and I need to clear my head.”

“You sure? I don’t mind dropping you at your door.”

She nodded, already opening the door. “I’m sure. Thanks for today.”

He hesitated. “Okay… Just… take care.”

She leaned in slightly. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow. Stay safe.”

Anya stepped out, her silhouette framed by the amber glow of the streetlights. She walked with quiet confidence, a soft smile on her lips. Arin watched her for a few seconds, a gentle warmth in his chest, before finally driving off.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into his driveway. The garage door hummed open, and he sat there for a moment in the quiet, replaying the day in his mind—every laugh, every glance, every shared bite of chocolate.

He smiled.
What a day.

As Arin pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar creak of the hinges welcomed him—but before he could even exhale, something shifted above him. A looming figure dropped from the shadows above the doorframe with a sudden whoosh of motion, wearing a monstrous papier-mâché mask with glowing eyes.

“Bhoo...oo...” came a ghostly voice.

Startled, Arin stumbled back, his hand instinctively clutching his chest. “WOAH! Aunt Claire! What the—!?”

The masked figure peeled off the disguise with a dramatic flourish, revealing Claire’s unmistakable grin, her silver-streaked curls bouncing as she laughed.

“Oh, come on. How did you know it was me?”

Arin stared at her, still catching his breath, eyebrows raised. “Because only you would pull off something this ridiculous.”

Claire wiggled her eyebrows and placed the mask on a nearby shelf like a trophy. “Well, don’t you like my surprises anymore?”

“It’s not that,” Arin muttered, finally shutting the door behind him, his bag sliding off his shoulder. “I just didn’t expect to nearly die of fright at the entrance.”

Before he could fully recover, a smaller, sharper voice chimed in from the hallway.

“Bhai, why are you so late?”

Arin turned toward the sound and blinked in surprise. “Ira? You’re still awake?”

His younger brother leaned against the doorframe in pajamas, arms crossed and lips puckered in mock offense.

Before he could reply, a delicate hand landed gently on his shoulder, cool fingers tightening playfully.

“Hello there.”

Arin jumped, spinning on his heel like a startled cat. “Mom!?” His voice cracked. “Oh, come on! Why is everyone trying to freak me out tonight?”

Evangeline stood behind him, her expression soft and amused, her long, dark braid falling over one shoulder. A mischievous twinkle danced in her eyes.

“Because you’re late,” Ira chimed in, grinning. “And we’re bored.”

“Exactly,” Claire added, flopping down onto the arm of the sofa. “So? Care to explain yourself, mister?”

Arin let out a long sigh, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I told you this morning, Ira—I’d be late today. Did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget, I just didn’t know you’d be this late.” Ira narrowed his eyes, still suspicious.

Evangeline stepped in smoothly, her voice the calming balm in the room. “Alright, Arin. Go freshen up and join us in the living room, okay?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’ll be right back.”

He turned to head upstairs, but Claire wasn’t done yet. She leaned in dramatically, sniffing near his collar like a detective from an old mystery film.

“Hmm... wait a minute,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you... drunk?”

Ira gasped as if someone had just spoiled a movie ending. “Bhai, you’re drunk?!?”

Arin threw up his hands. “No! I spilled a mojito on my shirt! That’s why I smell like... lime and regret.”

Claire broke into a fit of laughter, nearly toppling off the armrest, while Evangeline gave her a mock-scolding glare.

“Stop teasing my son. He’s had enough surprises for one evening.”

Arin shot her a grateful look. “Thanks, Mom.”

He disappeared upstairs, and a few minutes later returned freshly changed, hair damp, wearing a relaxed T-shirt and soft house pants. As he entered the warmly lit living room, he sank onto the couch with a relieved exhale.

The golden glow from the floor lamp spilled across the room, casting cozy shadows on the bookshelves and picture frames. Claire had curled up with a crocheted throw, and Ira was sprawled on the rug with a game controller in hand.

Evangeline emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Arin, do you want something to eat? If you give me a few minutes, I can make something quick.”

He shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thank you, Mom. But I’ve eaten way too much already. I’m full.”

Evangeline nodded. “Alright. Then I’ll make tea for all of us.”

“That sounds perfect,” Claire said, already hugging a pillow like a contented cat.

“I want tea too!” Ira piped up, raising his hand like he was in a classroom.

Evangeline arched a brow, teasing. “I said I’m making tea for everyone, didn’t I? Patience, young man.”

“Thanks, Mom!” Ira called out, grinning as she turned back toward the kitchen, her footsteps fading gently down the hall.

Arin leaned back, gaze drifting up to the ceiling as the chatter settled into soft background comfort—the kind of warmth that only home and family could provide.

As the warm murmur of conversation faded into the gentle clink of teaspoons against ceramic, a calm settled over the room like a soft evening breeze. The scent of cardamom-laced tea mingled with the earthy fragrance of fresh linen and wood polish. The lamps cast golden halos across the living room, wrapping everything in a cozy glow.

Claire, curled into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked beneath her, took a slow sip from her cup, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “By the way, Arin…” she began, lowering the cup with both hands, “why were you so late?”

Evangeline, seated neatly beside her, smoothed the hem of her shawl and looked at Arin with gentle concern. “Arin, did you manage to finish that important work you mentioned this morning?”

Arin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the steam from his tea fogging his glasses slightly. He adjusted them and offered a tired, reassuring smile. “Yeah, Mom. It’s done. Everything went on time.”

Ira, perched on a cushion near the coffee table and dunking a biscuit into his tea, perked up. “What important work? What did you do today?”

Arin gave him a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Not gonna lie—but let’s wait till Mom’s back. No spoilers.”

Ira groaned dramatically and slumped back. “Ugh, fine... I’m waiting.”

Just then, footsteps padded softly from the kitchen. Evangeline reappeared, carrying a polished wooden tray lined with delicate cups and a steaming teapot. She moved with that serene grace only a mother carries, gently setting the tray on the table before distributing the cups with quiet joy.

“Here you go, everyone,” she said softly, handing Claire her tea first, then Arin and Ira.

Claire accepted her cup, inhaling deeply with satisfaction. “Alright, Arin. No more stalling—spill it.”

But before he could speak, Evangeline placed a hand gently on his shoulder, sensing the weight behind his silence. Her voice was quiet, reassuring. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, honey. It’s not mandatory.”

Arin looked up, catching her gaze—so steady, so kind—and nodded slowly. He exhaled, his chest rising and falling with a visible hint of tension.

“No, Mom... I want to,” he said, voice low but firm. “It’s just...”

“That’s my good bhai! Tell us,” Ira said eagerly, leaning forward, hands gripping his cup like a secret was about to drop.

Arin took another breath and finally spoke, his fingers tightening slightly around the warm porcelain. “So... my manager, Ms. Myra, she’s unwell. She asked me to oversee the company for a few weeks. The board approved it. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be attending the board meetings.”

A beat of silence followed, and then—

“Why so suddenly?” Evangeline asked softly, her brows furrowed with maternal concern.

Arin shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, Mom. It all happened so fast. Just… caught me off guard.”

Ira blinked, then pulled a face. “Ugh, boring directors. But—congratulations, Bhai!”

“Yes, congratulations, dear,” Claire added, raising her cup in a mini toast, her face glowing with pride.

“Thanks,” Arin said with a quiet smile, still processing the gravity of it all. “But for the next few weeks, I’ll probably come home late—maybe around six or seven.”

Evangeline reached across the table and gently squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Arin. Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage just fine.”

Ira’s face twisted with theatrical dread. “But then... who’s going to pick me up from school?”

Evangeline turned to him, ever calm. “Don’t worry, Ira. I’ll pick you up.”

Arin chimed in with a hopeful grin. “Or... I could ask Anya if she can pick you up while getting Kian from school. What do you think?”

Ira’s eyes lit up instantly. “That sounds great! Then Mom doesn’t have to pause her work.”

Evangeline nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. But let me know once you talk to Anya. If she can’t, I’ll make myself available.”

“Of course, Mom. We’ve got other options too,” Arin added.

“What other options?” Ira asked, brows raised.

Arin turned with a cheeky smile toward the armchair. “Aunt Claire is here! Maybe she can pick you up.”

Claire raised a brow, lips pursing in mock offense. “I don’t have time, darling. I’ve got work to do.”

“Work?” Arin asked, puzzled. “I thought you were here to spend time with us before heading back?”

Claire leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Nope. I’ve been working on opening a physiotherapy center in Aurembra. Secretly. And it’s finally done.”

Arin’s jaw dropped. “Wait—the one that just opened two days ago near my office? That’s your center?”

Claire beamed, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yes, that’s mine.”

Evangeline clapped her hands together in delight. “That’s wonderful! You and Arin can go to the office and come home together.”

“Exactly!” Claire said with a wink.

Arin blinked at her in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”

“Sorry for keeping it secret,” she said sheepishly. “I wanted to surprise you all. But now that it’s done, I’ll be staying with you. Is that alright?”

Arin leaned back and smiled, warmth radiating in his eyes. “I don’t have any objections.”

Evangeline nodded gently. “Neither do I. This house has plenty of space—and love.”

Claire looked around the room, her expression softening. “No, I want my usual room, I used to live in whenever I come.”

Outside, the wind rustled the leaves against the windows. Inside, the room glowed brighter than ever—filled with the laughter, warmth, and unshakable bond of family.

The warm lull of the evening hung in the air like the lingering sweetness of honeyed tea. The soft hum of the ceiling fan stirred the curtains ever so slightly, casting fleeting shadows on the walls. Laughter had faded into a cozy quiet, broken only by the occasional clink of porcelain.

Claire, cradling her empty teacup, glanced over at Ira. The girl sat unusually quiet, her gaze fixed on the swirls of milk left in her cup, eyebrows gently knit in thought. Claire tilted her head, her tone gentle, teasing.

“Ira, sweetheart... what were you thinking so deeply about?”

Ira blinked, startled slightly, her head lifting. “How did you know I was thinking?”

Claire leaned forward with a sly smile, brushing an invisible speck from her slacks. “You forget your Aunt Claire is a psychiatrist. I read minds professionally. Now spill it—what’s got that clever little head of yours turning?”

Ira hesitated, then looked toward Arin, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Well... Bhai said starting tomorrow, he’ll be late. Like around 6 or 7 PM. But two days ago, he told me today was a half day. So if he only got promoted today, why did he come home at 8:30?”

The air shifted slightly—light, playful warmth giving way to curious tension. Evangeline’s brows creased as she tilted her head toward Arin, recollecting the earlier conversation.

“You did mention that, Arin.”

Claire let out a mock-gasp, hand to chest like a stage actress mid-reveal.

“Oho... looks like someone’s hiding something.”

Arin rubbed the back of his neck, caught in the glow of three suspicious stares. He chuckled sheepishly, surrendering.

“You got me, little detective.”

Ira beamed triumphantly. “Hehe, I know you too well, Bhai. Now spill!”

Evangeline gave her daughter a pointed look, her tone firm but soft.

“Ira, that’s not the way to speak to your brother. If he doesn’t want to share, we won’t push him. Say sorry.”

Ira looked down quickly, lips pursed. “Sorry, Bhai.”

Arin reached over and ruffled her hair gently. “It’s okay, Ira. I’ll tell you.”

Claire raised her brows, folding her arms and smirking. “That’s a good boy.”

Arin sighed, glancing toward his mother first, as if seeking silent permission.

“After I finished work around two, I didn’t come straight home. I spent the rest of the day... with Anya.”

Evangeline’s eyes widened slightly, surprise blooming into a tender smile.

“Oh... you were with Anya.”

Ira’s face lit up in sudden realization. “That’s why Kian’s mom picked him up from school!”

Claire’s grin turned downright mischievous. “Aha! So this was all pre-planned. Tell us—was it a date, Mr. Manager?”

Ira leaned closer, elbow on the table. “That was your ‘important work,’ huh?”

Arin groaned and lifted both hands. “It’s not what you think.”

Evangeline placed a reassuring hand over his. “It’s alright, honey. We understand.”

He smiled gratefully, then added, voice softer now:

“It wasn’t really a date... well, kind of. Anya got a promotion. She wanted to celebrate with me. So we had lunch, some ice cream, and wandered around a bit. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Mom.”

Evangeline’s heart softened further, her hand now brushing his shoulder gently.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Thank you for telling us the truth. It’s all forgotten now.”

Ira, meanwhile, crossed her arms and huffed dramatically.

“But where did you go?”

“We had lunch at that new place near my office—spicy noodles,” Arin said, with a small laugh.

“But you hate spicy food! How did you survive?” Ira exclaimed.

“Barely. I think my tongue’s still recovering.”

They all chuckled.

“Then we went to an ice cream parlor. After that... a games arcade.”

Ira’s expression crumpled into faux betrayal. “You did all that fun stuff without me? I’m so mad!”

Arin leaned toward her, eyebrows raised in mock guilt. “I missed you, too. Here—close your eyes.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“Just trust me.”

Ira covered her eyes obediently. Arin reached beside the couch and revealed a large, fluffy teddy bear—warm brown with a crimson ribbon around its neck. He held it in front of her and gently moved her hands away.

“Now, open them.”

Ira gasped. “Oh! A teddy bear! It’s so big!” Her eyes sparkled as she hugged it tightly.

Evangeline watched, her smile deep and maternal. “Your big brother got it just for you.”

Ira clutched the bear, still grinning. “All he ever does is annoy me! But... thank you.”

Arin leaned down to her level, eyes serious now beneath the softness. “Ira, I know you were upset. But sometimes I need a little space, too. You’ll always be special to me. That’ll never change.”

Ira’s lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Bhai. I just... I thought maybe I wasn’t important to you anymore.”

Arin pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head.

“Don’t ever think that. You’ll always be my special person. Always.”

“I’m sorry again,” she whispered.

“You’re everything to me. Now stop crying and smile.”

She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Bhai... I love it.”

“Let’s go to our room,” he said softly. “I know you’re sleepy.”

“You know me too well,” she yawned, clinging to the bear as they stood.

Evangeline watched them ascend the stairs, her heart full, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

“You two are so precious together. Now go and get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, CeCe,” they chorused.

As their footsteps faded, the two women remained seated, warm silence resting comfortably between them.

Claire exhaled softly. “They’re so adorable.”

“Yes,” Evangeline replied, eyes still on the staircase. “They’re my children.”

Claire leaned back, stretching lazily. “Mine too. But Ira needs to understand that Arin is growing up. He won’t always have as much time for her.”

Evangeline nodded thoughtfully. “She’ll understand soon enough. I know my Ira.”

Claire rose, gathering her shawl. “You’re right. I think it’s time for bed.”

But Evangeline remained still, her eyes distant now, a quiet unease flickering through her expression.

“I’m wondering about something...”

Claire paused. “What could you be wondering about after that beautiful moment?”

Evangeline’s brows furrowed as her voice dropped.

“That name... Myra. It feels familiar. I think I’ve heard it before. When Arin was in school...”

Claire turned back toward her. “You think you’ve heard of her back then?”

Evangeline nodded slowly. “Yes... It’s familiar somehow...”

Claire crossed to her and squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Don’t stress about it tonight. Let’s sleep. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Goodnight, Eva.”

Evangeline gave her a small nod, but her thoughts lingered.

“Goodnight, Claire.”

As Claire walked off and the lights dimmed, Evangeline remained seated for a moment longer—eyes fixed on the teacups, the silence now a whisper of something deeper.

Continue.....