Chapter 1: Midnight Arrivals and Mischief

Getting off the plane at midnight in Mumbai, I sent a message to my brother:

[Are you asleep, bhaiya? Come pick me up at the airport.]

The sweat under my collar wouldn't dry, even with the airport's overworked ceiling fans whirring above. The distant honk of a black-and-yellow taxi and the spicy scent of vada pav drifted in through the sliding glass doors. Adjusting my backpack, I watched the WhatsApp ticks turn blue, nerves prickling beneath my skin.

He replied with a voice note, sounding as unserious as ever:

[Which little sister is this?]

[Send a photo, let me see!]

A flash of mock irritation shot through me. Typical! Just like when he’d hide the TV remote and act innocent—some things never change.

I was left speechless for a second, then immediately fired up a video call:

[Tomorrow I’ll ask Mummy and Papa how many sisters you actually want!]

The fluorescent airport lights buzzed overhead as I pressed the call button, biting my cheek to stifle a grin. My feet throbbed with exhaustion, but my annoyance at bhaiya was winning.

My brother’s face changed in an instant, his bravado vanishing:

[Bhaiya was wrong, please don’t tell Mummy and Papa!]

[I’ll send my most handsome and well-mannered buddy to pick you up!]

My irritation softened a little at his sudden panic, and I made a mental note to roast him later. The sticky Mumbai night couldn’t cool the warmth creeping up my cheeks.

Later, my brother’s so-called well-mannered buddy bullied me so badly behind his back that I ended up in tears! Who would have guessed that getting picked up could turn into such a mini-disaster?

1

Flight delayed!

I didn’t get off the plane until midnight!

The exhaustion of the journey pressed on my shoulders as I wheeled my trolley past dozing taxi drivers and CISF jawans. The airport echoed with the last, urgent calls for missed flights. Even the stray dogs outside seemed too weary to bark.

At 2:30 in the morning, the airport exit was deserted except for the chill that settled on my arms.

Couldn’t get a cab!

A bit scared too!

My skin prickled in the heavy silence, broken only by the rumble of an auto passing by. Hugging my shawl tighter, I cursed my luck—and Mumbai’s unpredictable crowds.

I texted my brother, Rohan:

[Are you asleep, bhaiya? Come pick me up at the airport.]

After hitting send, I frowned at the typo—why did I write "bhaiya" twice?

Weird!

A bit awkward!

I usually just call him "bhaiya," not "brother!"

We have each other’s contacts, but the chat window is empty. Just proves how little we talk these days!

But that doesn’t mean we have a bad relationship.

It’s just that when siblings grow up, there’s less to say!

I thought about our childhood fights over the remote, stealing Maggi, and now this odd, grown-up silence. Funny how things change.

Waited ten minutes!

My brother sent two voice notes:

[Which little sister is this?]

[Send a photo, let me see.]

He sounded so flippant!

I was left speechless!

Clearly, he never saved my name in his contacts!

I know my brother’s a total flirt!

But this was the first time I’d seen his shamelessness up close!

I made a video call immediately!

As soon as the call connected, the light on his end was dim and the background noisy.

My brother lounged lazily on the sofa, eyebrows raised, eyes full of mischief!

He even had a glass of whiskey in hand, looking completely at ease!

Someone’s voice in the background grumbled, 'Yaar, who is it now?'

We stared at each other through the screen for a moment.

He instantly sat up, all the wildness gone!

I grinned: "Tomorrow I’ll ask Mummy and Papa how many sisters you want!"

"Batao bhaiya, kya bolte ho ab?"

My brother choked on his drink, sputtering awkwardly!

His glass nearly slipped, and the guy next to him burst out giggling.

The heckling started:

"Rohan bhai, this little sister is really pretty!"

"If you don’t want her, introduce her to me!"

My brother’s face darkened as he kicked the guy:

"Chup kar, this is my real sister!"

"Shut up!"

Guess the phone was on the table at first!

My brother snatched it up, the screen zooming in on his sheepish face.

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?"

I kept smiling, "If I told you, I wouldn’t have found out you have so many sisters! I’ll tell Mummy and Papa when I get home!"

My brother rubbed his temples and pleaded, "Bhaiya was wrong, please don’t tell Mummy and Papa!"

I snorted!

A very soft laugh rumbled from off-screen—low, pleasant, dangerously attractive. I rolled my eyes, stifling a laugh behind my hand, not letting the boys see how amused I actually was.

My brother shot a glare sideways!

"I’ve been drinking, so I can’t drive. I’ll have someone come pick you up!"

Instantly—

A chorus erupted:

"I’ll go!"

"Didi, I’ll pick you up!"

"Your brother might have lots of sisters, but you can have lots of brothers!"

Someone in the back piped up, "Arrey Rohan, let us make some friends also!" The whole gang was in full late-night masti mode.

My brother grumbled, "Hatt, none of you are any good! You want to pick up my sister? No chance!"

He looked at me: "Here, I’ll have my most handsome, best-mannered buddy pick you up!"

The camera swung over—

A strikingly handsome face appeared!

At first glance, a real showstopper!

Kabir!

My brother’s best buddy.

I’d only seen him a few times before.

My brother is two years older than me. We went to the same school for a while, so I’d sometimes spot the two of them together.

Not strangers, but definitely not close.

I’d never even spoken to Kabir before!

Suddenly, through the screen, we made eye contact!

I was startled!

Kabir smiled at me, calm and composed!

Before I could react, my brother hung up the call!

The screen went dark and I was left staring at my own tired reflection, heart beating a little too fast for comfort.

I didn’t know it then, but that night would change everything between me, Kabir, and my brother.