Fresh into her fourteenth year, Dhanya marked the day that shifted everything.

  That birthday in the Punjab home stayed quiet - just a fresh dress, Payasam warmed on the stove by Amma, then whispers sent upward through folded hands. School air, though, grew thick. Rumors reached Vikram about Dhanya losing focus, so Rishi stepped in, moving slow but steady between them.

  Early that morning, by the row of metal lockers, Rishi stepped into her path. A grin tugged at his lips as he passed over a tiny package, neatly covered in paper. His voice came soft, almost shy. Not one of my drawings this time, he added, yet I’m hoping it brings you joy just the same

  Inside was a keychain with a small silver bell. "So I can hear you coming and make sure the 'Gargoyles' are cleared out of the way," he joked.

  That moment stood out when the clock hit nine. The evening found its peak then.

  A ring came from the old phone. Papa picked it up slow. He said hello, then asked who was on the line. The voice sounded far away

  Frozen in place, Dhanya felt the chill crawl through her fingers.

  "Ah, Franklin? George's brother from Thiruvananthapuram?" Papa’s voice changed. It became the polite, formal voice he used with relatives. "Yes, yes. We reached safely. How is your father? ... Oh, you want to wish Dhanya for her birthday? One second."

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  With a slow move, he passed the device to Dhanya, gaze locked on her face.

  Hello?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice steady

  Punjab's music might just match your heartbeat, today. A grin showed in Franklin’s words when he said, Happy Birthday, Dhanya. Clear on the line, yet warmth slipped through. He always plans his moves right. Calling through official paths, making sure to ask for Papa at the start - suddenly, something hidden felt like normal kinship

  "Thank you, Franklin," Dhanya said, her heart soaring. "It was very kind of you to call the family."

  When she hung up, Papa looked at her. "He seems like a well-mannered boy. It’s good to keep the Kerala connections alive, even if we are far away."

  Finding his path open, Franklin stepped inside without struggle. Dhanya saw it clearly - where George pushed, Franklin simply understood.

  That evening, after slipping under the covers, her fingers tight around Rishi's bell, memories of Franklin’s words looping in her mind, movement caught her eye beyond the glass. A shape stood still beneath the dim streetlight, gaze fixed on the front of the house.

  Someone else stood there instead. Not him either.

  Vikram stood in the doorway. Not a hint of celebration on his face.