Chapter 12: The Curse Returns

She was Kabir’s cousin. The puzzle clicked into place. Sharma blood runs thick. Karma comes fast—never time to breathe between blows.

A voice came from outside the office: “Hello.” My heart hammered. I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

My eyelids twitched. I’d know Kabir’s voice anywhere.

His shoes clicked on the tiles. Instinct: keep your head down, don’t make eye contact.

“Bhaiya!” Ritika’s voice turned sweet, childish. She ran to him, tears streaming, clutching his arm. She played the spoiled cousin—protected, pampered, sure the world would bend for her.

“Look at my hair! All her fault! Bhaiya, you have to help me!” Her voice was pure drama. The office staff stared, as if watching a soap serial.

All I could think was, this world is too small—Lucknow, with its millions, wasn’t big enough to escape the Sharmas. The curse seemed to shackle me for life.

No matter how far I ran, their shadow caught me, smothering hope before it could grow.

Would I ever escape?

Kabir patted Ritika’s back, then looked at me. His eyes were cold, searching for a weakness. I braced myself, fists clenched in my lap.

After puberty, Kabir had grown into a tall, broad-shouldered man. He wore his confidence like a Rolex—effortless, shining, impossible to ignore. Girls stared; even teachers straightened up.

As he walked closer, a chill swept over me. I’d beaten Ritika, but Kabir could crush me with a look.

My courage shrank. I remembered the pool, the kicks, the silent cruelty.

His shadow loomed. The old fear rose up—drowning, dying, all over again.

The air was thick, as if I was underwater, fighting for breath.

He said, “Ananya Sharma. You really are something.”

His voice was low, almost amused. The world paused, waiting for his move. My hands trembled, but I looked him in the eye, promising myself: No more drowning. Not this time.

Kabir’s eyes met mine—empty, unflinching. For the first time, I wondered if I was fighting a ghost.