After an hour-long car ride, they finally reached their destination. The area was quiet, with a peaceful neighborhood charm.
After asking two or three passersby for directions, they finally found the house. It stood calmly behind a simple wooden fence. The gate was slightly open. As they stepped inside, a small lawn came into view. Neatly maintained grass, a little garden with a few flowering plants, and at the center stood a modest two-storey house. The place had a quiet, homely feel to it—warm and unassuming.
Luna and Anya walked toward the house and rang the doorbell. With every passing second, Luna felt a bit more nervous.
After a few moments, a lady opened the door. She was beautiful, in her mid-forties, wearing a blue saree, her hair tied up neatly in a bun.
She looked at them and asked, "Who are you?"
Luna stepped forward and introduced herself.
"Hello, Auntie. I'm Luna Mehra. Is this Nikhil Shrivastav's house?"
The lady nodded. "Yes, it is." Then added, "Are you girls his friends?"
Luna hesitated for a second before replying, "I do know him."
As if sensing something in their expressions—or maybe simply feeling bad about them standing at her doorstep—she opened the door wider and invited them inside.
After entering the house, a big, cozy living room came into view. Wooden furniture filled the space, along with neatly arranged decorations. A few indoor plants and a wooden statement piece added a warm, earthy touch to the room.
The lady gestured toward the sofa and said, "Please sit."
Luna and Anya quietly sat down while she went into the kitchen to bring some juice for them.
As Luna waited, her eyes wandered around the room—and soon landed on a photo hanging on the wall. It looked like a family portrait. Curious, she stood up for a closer look.
There were four people in the picture—a man in his fifties, the lady from earlier, a teenage girl, and a guy with a bright smile on his face. Luna paused, her heart skipping a beat.
She knew that smile.
It was Nikhil.