This Is War

Ruhi’s POV

Next morning

I woke up suddenly. My breath was uneven, my chest rising and falling too fast.

I blinked, my eyes darting around.

This wasn’t the basement. This was my room.

My curtains. My bed. The faint light from the lamp near the door.

It was just a dream.

I inhaled slowly, forcing my hands to stop shaking. One breath. Then another. I was safe. I told myself that again and again until my heartbeat began to settle.

That’s when I saw him.

Aayansh.

He was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes were fixed on me worried, alert, like he hadn’t looked away even for a second.

“Ruuh,” he called softly.

I just stared at him.

My mind felt foggy, like I had woken up in the middle of something unfinished. I couldn’t understand why he was here. How long he had been here. What had happened before I fell asleep.

“Aayansh…” I whispered, my voice rough.

I tried to sit up, but a sudden heaviness pressed down on my head. A dull ache spread behind my eyes, sharp enough to make me wince. Instinctively, I lifted my hand and pressed it against my temple.

Aayansh was beside me instantly.

“Ruuh,” he said again, “What happened? Is your head hurting?”

I nodded slowly.“Yeah,” I murmured. “It… hurts.”

His jaw tightened. He reached out carefully, like he was afraid I might disappear if he moved too fast, and helped me sit up a little, placing a pillow behind my back.

“Don’t move too much,” he said gently. “The doctor said this might happen.”

Doctor?

That word made my chest tighten.

I looked at him, trying to piece things together. The file. The messages. The dream. The screams.

Memory crashed back in fragments.

“Oh…” I breathed. “I… I scared everyone, didn’t I?”

Aayansh shook his head immediately. “No.,” he corrected softly. “The only thing you did was dealing this alone, hiding your pain from everyone.

I swallowed hard, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry.” because of me you had to come here at midnight.

He frowned slightly, lifting my chin so I had to look at him. “Don’t apologize for something you can’t control.”

His thumb brushed lightly over my cheek, grounding, warm.

I’m here, he continued. “You’re safe.

My eyes burned, but I didn’t cry. Not yet.

I leaned back against the pillow, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.

“And I’m not going anywhere,” he added quietly, like a promise meant only for me.

For the first time since waking up, my breathing steadied.

Aayansh didn’t move away even after I settled back against the pillows.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked quietly.

“A little,” I admitted. “But… it’s manageable.”

He nodded, like he was relieved but not convinced. His hand was still holding mine, thumb brushing slow, steady circles against my skin grounding me.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, softer this time. “For lying. For not telling you.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice stayed calm. “I was scared, Ruuh. Not angry. I don’t care about the lie as much as I care about why you felt you had to lie.”

I looked down at our joined hands. “I didn’t want to be the reason everyone panicked again. They all had gone through so much because of me back then.”

He leaned closer. “You’re not a burden. You never were. And you don’t get to decide what we can or can’t handle.”

I met his eyes then. I really met them.

“I thought if I stayed quiet, I could protect you and everyone,” I whispered. “But I think I just made it worse.”

He lifted my hand and pressed it against his chest. “Next time, let us decide how to protect you.

Something in my chest loosened. "I’m scared,” I admitted.

“I know,” he said. “But you’re not alone anymore. Even when you think you are, I’m still there.”

I nodded slowly.

After a moment, he stood and offered me his hand. “Come. Everyone’s waiting.”

Downstairs

The moment we stepped into the living room, the silence hit me.

Everyone was there.

Bade papa. Chachu. Badi maa. Chachi. Rishabh bhai. Aditya bhai. Riya bhabhi. Even Parth and Rahul.

But something was missing.

No teasing. No casual scolding. No laughter.

Just worried eyes that immediately turned toward me.

Badi maa was the first to move. She came forward and cupped my face gently. “How are you now, beta?”

“I’m okay,” I said, managing a small smile. “Really.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway and pulled me into a hug. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

I swallowed hard.

Rishabh bhai stood near, arms crossed. His eyes scanned me once, twice checking. Only then did he relax slightly.

Rishabh glanced at Aayansh, then nodded. “Thank you.”

That one word carried more weight than any conversation.

Chachu cleared his throat. “The doctor said stress triggered it?”

“Yes,” Riya bhabhi replied. “And lack of rest.”

Bade papa sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “This family really knows how to test fate.”

Normally someone would have joked. Today, no one did.

I sat down beside Aayansh on the couch. He didn’t let go of my hand.

“We’ll handle this together,” Bade papa said finally. “No secrets. No assumptions.”

I nodded.

For a moment, it almost felt like things were settling.

Almost.

Then

My phone vibrated.

Once.I froze.

Aayansh felt it immediately. “Ruuh?”

Slowly, I pulled my phone out.

Unknown number.

Again.

My chest tightened as I opened the message.

UNKNOWN: You remembered the basement faster than I expected.

My fingers went cold.

Another message followed before I could react.

UNKNOWN: Dreams are funny like that. They come back when you start asking the right questions.

A third message appeared.

UNKNOWN: Tell your family they missed something. Something buried much deeper than an accident report.

I looked up sharply.

Aayansh was already watching my face, his expression darkening. “What is it?”

I swallowed. “He knows about the dream.”

The room went completely still.

Rishabh stepped forward. “What did he say exactly?”

I handed him the phone.

As everyone read the messages, I felt it again that cold, crawling certainty.

This wasn’t random.

This wasn’t just about my father.

This person knew my past.

And worse

They were getting closer.

Before anyone could say another word, my phone started buzzing again.

Not a message.

A call.

Unknown number.

The sound felt too loud in the silent room, like it was echoing off the walls.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

Rishabh bhai was the one who stepped forward. He took the phone from my hand, his jaw set, his eyes sharp. Before I could protest, he answered it and placed it on speaker.

“Hello,” I said firmly.

For a second, there was only static.

Then,

A low chuckle came through the speaker.

“Hello, doll.”

My stomach dropped.

Rishabh’s grip tightened around the phone. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And why are you dragging the past back after so many years?”

The man on the other side laughed again, slow and deliberate.

“Ah… so the big brother finally decided to speak.”

Aayansh shifted beside me instantly, his arm coming around my shoulders, protective. I could feel his heartbeat fast, controlled.

“You should know this, Rishabh Raichand,” the voice continued. “The past never stayed buried. You people just stopped looking.”

Rishabh’s voice stayed steady. “Say what you want to say. Don’t play games.”

“Oh, but this is the game,” the man replied calmly. “And your sister has already been playing it since she was ten.”

My breath caught.

Ten.

Badi maa gasped softly.

“What do you mean?” Rishabh snapped.

The man paused long enough to let the silence hurt.

“Ask her,” he said. “Ask Ruhi what happened in the year she started screaming at night.”

Every eye turned to me.

My throat went dry.

The room felt smaller.

I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

“That basement she dreams about?” the man continued. “It wasn’t just a nightmare. It was a place.”

“No,” I whispered without realizing it.

Aayansh tightened his hold. “Ruuh”

“You locked her away,” the man said casually, like he was discussing the weather. “Not you specifically, Rishabh. But someone ,Someone who lived under the same roof.”

Rishabh’s face lost color.

“Watch your words,” he warned. “If you’re lying”

“I’m not,” the man interrupted. “You think her panic attacks came out of nowhere? You think children just… imagine hunger? Bruises? Fear?”

Chachu took a step forward. “Enough. Who are you?”

The man sighed, almost amused. “Someone who watched. Someone who warned Hiten Raichand.”

My heart slammed painfully.

“You knew my father,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Oh, Ruhi,” he replied softly. “I knew him very well. He was the only one who tried to take you away from that house.”

The room erupted.

“He did,” the man cut in. “And that’s why he died.”

Silence crashed down like glass.

Bade papas voice was low now. Dangerous. “Are you saying my brother was murdered because he knew something?”

“Yes,” the man said . “Because he found out what he shouldn’t .”

Aayansh stood up abruptly. “You’ve said enough. If you know so much, why hide? Why now?”

Another pause.

“Because she’s old enough to remember,” the man replied. “And because she has forgotten the person who helped her in getting out of there she had forgotten me and the promise she made to me.

And now I want her to remember that promise and me.

My phone buzzed again.

A text came through automatically lighting the screen.

A photograph.Black and white.Blurry.

But clear enough.

A small girl.

Curled up on a cold floor.

A basement door behind her.

My knees nearly gave out.

Aayansh caught me instantly.

Rishabh stared at the image, his hands shaking for the first time.

“This,” the man said quietly through the speaker, “is where your story really begins.”

Then the call disconnected.

The phone went dead.

I clutched Aayansh’s shirt, my vision blurring.

“They knew,” I whispered. “Someone always knew.”

Rishabh closed his eyes for a brief second just before opening them again.

And when he spoke, his voice was ice cold.

“This is no longer just an investigation.”

He looked at everyone in the room.

“This is war.”