Tension thickened the air as everyone gathered in Richa and Kaushik’s living room. With a heavy glance at Kaushik, Richa softly addressed Maithili, “Maithili… don’t panic.” But the words only sharpened the unease.

“Don’t panic?” Mihir echoed confused. “Why would she panic?”

Richa exhaled slowly. “Mihir is here… because he’s looking for Prachi.”

The name hit like thunder. “Prachi?” Maithili and Vikrant said in unison, stunned. The puzzle pieces from a restaurant conversation clicked into place. Maithili remembered Mihir asking about a child—her blood ran cold. Her hands began to shake. Vikrant tried to calm her.

Tina, bewildered, looked around. “Who is Prachi? Why are we talking about her? Bhai, what’s going on?”

Richa’s tone softened. “Prachi is Abhi’s elder sister.”

Tina blinked, shocked. “Jiju has a sister?”

Kaushik nodded, solemn. “Yes. And Prachi is Abhi’s only sister.”

Maithili sat silent, panic swelling inside. No… this can’t be. Myra is mine. Mine and Abhi’s. No one can take her away from us, she thought.

Then Mihir asked, unsure, “Prachi is Abhi’s sister?”

Maithili didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Her pale, stricken face said it all.

Kaushik confirmed gently, “Yes. And she’s also—”

“The woman I fell in love with,” Mihir interrupted, his voice cracking.

Gasps filled the room.

“You were in a relationship with Jiju’s sister?” Tina asked, stunned.

Mihir turned to Maithili, desperation in his voice. “Please take me to her, Maithili. I need to see Prachi. And… my child. Please. What’s my child’s name?” His hope lit up his face. “Are they like her… or like me?”

Maithili couldn’t speak. She looked at Richa and Kaushik, trembling. “You haven’t told him…?” Kaushik’s voice was low. “We didn’t know how.

“What?” Mihir asked, looking around in alarm. “Told me what?”

Silence.

Tina whispered, “What are we not saying?”

Mihir’s voice rose, breaking. “What haven’t you told me?!”

Then, in a voice barely audible, Maithili said, “Prachi…”

“She’s okay, right?” Mihir asked quickly, laughing nervously. “Is she okay? Married? Happy? Is my child, okay?”

Maithili’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head. “No…”

Mihir froze.

“Prachi passed away, Mihir,” Richa said, her voice cracking.

The room fell utterly silent.

Mihir stood still, disbelieving. “She… what?”

Maithili rose, her face heavy with sorrow. “She died, Bhai…”

“No. No, you’re lying,” Mihir whispered, stepping back.

Kaushik spoke gently, “She passed away years ago.”

Mihir collapsed into a chair, hands to his face, the grief hitting like a wave. “No. My Prachi…”

Richa wiped her tears. “She had complications during pregnancy. She was in London when she found out. That’s why she came back to India. She wanted to be close to Abhi…”

Mihir’s eyes were bloodshot. His voice cracked. “She suffered alone… And I wasn’t there… What have I done?” He wept openly, his pain raw, shaking the room.

Suddenly, through his sobs, came a broken plea. “Then where is my child? Is my child… okay?”

The room remained heavy with silence after Mihir’s breakdown. Then, with trembling lips and a flicker of desperate hope, he looked around.

“Where is my child?” Mihir asked, voice hoarse.

No one answered.

He swallowed hard. “Did… did I lose my child too?” His voice cracked. “Did my child… die?”

Before he could finish the sentence, Maithili stepped forward shaking her head, her voice firm through her tears. “No, Bhai. Never say that. She’s fine. She’s healthy.”

Mihir froze, his eyes locking onto hers. “She?” he repeated, breath catching. “I… I have a daughter?” His voice was a whisper, breaking under the weight of shock and joy.

Tears still streaking his face, he wiped them quickly. “Maithili, where is she? Can I meet her?” Then the realization hit him. “But… if Prachi is not around, then… where did you keep my child?”

He took a step closer, urgent now. “Where is my daughter, Maithili?”

Maithili stood frozen. Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t bring herself to say the truth—that the little girl Mihir was so desperate to meet was Myra.

Richa and Kaushik looked down. Vikrant turned his face away. No one spoke.

Mihir’s voice rose, the silence eating away at him. “Don’t tell me you… Abhi and his family gave her up? Did they put my daughter in an orphanage?” His voice cracked again. “Is she okay?” Is she even in this country? Is she being raised by strangers? Is she—?”

Mihir’s face twisted in disbelief and anger. I’ll find out everything. And I swear, I’ll file a case if I must. I’ll get my daughter back.”

Maithili’s eyes filled with fear. “Enough!”
Maithili’s voice sliced through the room like a blade—sharp, pained, and final.

The room fell into stunned silence.
“You don’t have to search any orphanage... or knock on any doors…” she said, eyes shining.

Mihir stared at her, bewildered.  She looked him straight in the eyes, her voice trembling.
“She’s with us… she’s always been with us.”

Mihir’s breath caught. “W-What are you saying?”
A pause. Then, quietly, “Myra… is your daughter.”

The words shattered the air like glass. Mihir staggered back a step, the ground tilting beneath him. “No… Myra?” he said, as if the name suddenly belonged to another universe. “Myra is my daughter? Isn’t she Abhi’s daughter? Maithili shook her head. “Abhi’s first marriage never lasted long enough for that, Bhai. There was no child. When Abhi filed for divorce, Di—Prachi Di—came to India.

She paused, then said softly, “No one knows the full truth. Everyone assumes Myra is Abhi’s daughter. And yes… in every way that matters, she is.

Mihir collapsed onto the couch again, overwhelmed, the truth hitting him like a flood. His lips parted in disbelief. “Myra… my daughter…?”

Maithili’s voice was gentle but firm. “I’m sorry for your loss, Bhai. Truly, I am. I don't know what happened between you and Di… and honestly, I don't even want to know. But one thing is clear: You may be Myra’s biological father… but Abhi is her Papa. And Myra… she’s our daughter now.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued. “When Prachi di passed away, she left Myra with Abhi. She made him promise to stay with Myra. She wanted her child raised by him—with love, safety, and a complete family. And Abhi… he never hesitated. From the moment he held her, she became his.”

Mihir's voice broke as he whispered, She… she calls Abhi “papa.”

She knelt beside Mihir, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “I know this is a lot. I know it hurts. But this is her world now. To Myra… I’m her mamma. Abhi is her papa. That’s her truth.”

Richa added softly, “You came searching for Prachi and your child… but Prachi is gone. And your daughter has a family. I didn’t want you to know this ever Mihir—especially after you told me you never knew about the pregnancy.”

Mihir looked up, eyes raw. “I want to see her.”

Maithili hesitated. “Not like this, Bhai. Not in this condition.”

“I need to tell her the truth,” Mihir insisted, voice rising. “She has the right to know her real father.”

Everyone exchanged alarmed glances. Maithili’s face drained of colour.

“You can’t do that, Bhai,” she said urgently. “Please… try to understand. She’s just a child.

“I need to tell her,” Mihir said, standing up with a sudden burst of energy. “I’m her father. She deserves to know.”

Everyone exchanged stunned glances.

“No!” Maithili said, standing, blocking his path. “You can’t do this, Bhai. Please try to understand—”

“Does she even know who her mother was?” Mihir demanded. “Has she seen her picture? Does she even know what Prachi looked like?”

Maithili lowered her eyes and shook her head.

Mihir’s voice rose. “She has the right to know. About her real parents. About me. About Prachi. I’m thankful to you and Abhi for raising her, I truly am. But her father is back. She deserves the truth.”

His voice echoed through the stunned silence. Maithili’s mouth parted in disbelief.

“You can’t do this, Bhai,” she whispered. “You can’t just walk in and rewrite her life.”

“I can, and I will,” Mihir said coldly. “Because no one else should be raising my daughter when I’m alive.”

“You can’t just show up and claim her now!” Maithili cried, voice cracking. “You weren’t there! You left Prachi di!

“I didn’t know!” Mihir shouted, grief spilling over. “I didn’t know she was pregnant! I didn’t know she was dying! If I had—”

“But you didn’t!” Maithili snapped, the pain boiling over. “And Abhi was the ones who picked up the pieces!”

Tina, still shocked, finally spoke. “Bhai… have you gone mad? What are you saying? You’re talking about taking Myra away from the only parents she’s ever known!”

Mihir turned to them, desperate. “I’m not trying to take her away… I just want her to know who she really is. I want her to know me. I want to be her father.”

Maithili stared at him, shattered.
“No matter what your DNA says… you can’t just rewrite her life, Bhai. You can’t take away the only father she’s ever loved. The only mother she’s ever known.”
 He looked at Maithili, eyes raw but resolute. “You and Abhi… you’re not her real parents, Maithili. Don’t live in that delusion.”

The words struck like a slap.

Maithili’s face stiffened. Her breath caught, eyes widening not in shock—but in heartbreak.

Mihir continued, “Yes, you raised her. And I’m… I’m grateful for that, truly. But let’s not confuse things. You’re not her mother. Abhi is not her father. You both stepped in… but I am her father. That’s the truth. Accept it.”

Kaushik’s jaw clenched. Richa looked furious. But it was Maithili who spoke, and her voice was quiet—too quiet.

“You’re right, Bhai,” she said, nodding slowly, a bitter smile forming. “I’m not her biological mother. And Abhi isn’t her biological father. We didn’t give her birth.”

She took a step toward him. Her voice grew steadier, fiercer.

“But you know what we gave her? A childhood. A home. Stability. Love—without conditions.

Mihir tried to speak, but she cut him off.

“Yes, thank you for acknowledging that we raised her. But don't ever say we lived in a delusion. You want to talk about truth? Here’s one: being a parent is not about who made her, it's about who stayed.”

Her voice cracked, but she kept going. “You may be her father by blood. But when she falls sick, she doesn’t call your name. When she has nightmares, she doesn’t run to your arms. When she draws her family tree, your name isn't on it. Because you were never there.”

Kaushik added coldly, “And you weren’t even in her mother’s life when she needed you. So, no—don’t you dare try to claim credit now.”

Mihir looked shattered, but he stood his ground.
“She doesn’t run to me, Maithili... because she doesn’t know I’m her father.”

His voice trembled, but his resolve held firm.
“Once she gets used to me, once she knows the truth… she’ll come to me. With every smile, every tear. She’ll come to me—not Abhiram. Because I’m her father. And I want to be there for all of it—for her.”

Maithili’s lips trembled. Think about Myra bhai. You can’t just drop a truth bomb on her. She’s just a little girl. Her whole life has been built on the belief that Abhi is her Papa. What happens to her when you rip that foundation out?”

Richa crossed her arms, still fuming. “You’re not thinking about her. You’re thinking about you. About easing your guilt. But what about Myra? What about her feelings?”

Mihir snapped back, “Don’t talk to me about guilt, Richa. I live with it every second since I found out. Every moment I lost, every first word I missed, every birthday I didn’t get to celebrate.

So yes, I’m sorry. But I’m going to tell her the truth. It might be difficult for her to accept at first, but she deserves to know.

“I am her father. I’m only her father. And Prachi is her mother. No one— I mean no one—has the right to be Myra’s dad but me. It’s my right.”

Maithili was stunned. Just yesterday, Mihir had praised her—called her a great mother to a child who wasn’t even hers. And now, today, after finding out that Myra is his biological daughter, he was acting like neither Abhi, nor she had any right to her at all.

Tina’s voice echoed in the heavy silence. “Have you gone mad, Bhai? What are you even saying?!” Mihir turned to her, eyes burning with pain and resolve. “I’m saying the truth, Tina. Myra is my daughter. I have a right to be in her life—as her father not as her uncle.”
 Maithili stepped back, as if slapped by his words. Her voice shook, barely able to contain the heartbreak.

“You can’t just go and tell that little girl you’re her father—not the man she’s been calling Papa her whole life!” Tina cried.

Mihir snapped, “Then what should I do, Tina? Just stay silent? Stand by and watch my daughter call someone else Papa and Mamma like I don’t exist?”

Before Maithili could respond to Mihir’s question, a voice—calm yet razor-sharp—cut through the room.

“Yes.”

Everyone turned stunned.