It was quite early in the morning as I lit the stove in the kitchen. My mouth still tasted sour from the bouts of morning sickness I had to recover from. I felt a little lightheaded as well. The pregnancy was really taking a toll on me. Meanwhile, Bhairav Ji was exercising on the terrace. Men really could do whatever they wanted.

"Didi, aap kya kar rahi ho?"

(Didi, what are you doing?)

I jumped at the young voice. My eyes were wide as I turned to look at Saarang. He gave me a little smile, his large eyes twinkling in the dim light.

"Dara diya tumne! Kaise chooho ki tarah rasoi mei aate ho!" I clutched my chest. Saarang giggled before running towards me. He leaned up on the counter to see what I was doing. It had been just one day since he was in the haveli. I pressed my hand to his forehead, and it seemed like his fever had gone away entirely.

(You scared me! You came into the kitchen just like a mouse!)

"Didi aap akele kaam kyu kar rahi ho? Mai madad karu?" My little brother asked, and I smiled at him, "Aakhir tum subah subah uthkar kya kar rahe ho? Sona nahi hai?"

(Didi, why are you working alone? Can I help you?)

(What are you doing up so early?)

He shook his head, "Maa bhi har roz jaldi utthi thi. Mai hamesha madad karta tha..." Saarang squeezed the counter, staring directly into the fire. I was surprised to hear this. The mother I knew barely woke up early and cooked. It had always been me, working around the house for as long as I could remember. Had she been different with Saarang?

(Even Maa used to wake up early every day. I would always help her.)

"Aap Maa ke madad karte the?" I smiled at him.

(You used to help Maa?)

"Haan. Aur pata hai, woh itne gol gol roti banathi thi. Aur mai god mei bethkar sab khaata tha," he told me with a bright smile.

(Yes. And you know what? She used to make such round, round roti. I would sit on her lap and eat everything.)

Maa had never fed me like that when I was young. Maybe her affection for Saarang stemmed from the fact that he was a boy. I was glad that at least one of us had happy memories with Maa. But that also meant that he missed her more.

"Aur... Baba kaise the...?" I asked softly.

(And... How was father...?)

Saarang's face dulled immediately, "Mujhe unke paas wapas nahi jaana. Mujhe Maa ke paas jaana hai... Baba bahut maarte hai Didi. Maa ko bhi bahut maara tha... aur ek din Maa toh uthi hi nahi. Maine bahut koshish kiya. Mujhe lagta hai woh ab bhi so rahi hai... Par jaagne ke baad woh meri chinta karegi. Mujhe Maa ke paas jaana hai."

(I don't want to go back to him. I want to go back to my mother... He hits me a lot, Didi. He hits Maa as well... And one day she just didn't wake up. I tried a lot... But I think she's still sleeping. She'll worry about me after waking up... I want to go to my mother.)

I hugged Saarang tightly, tears dampening my cheeks. He still didn't understand that our Mother had died. And what's worse was that he had found her dead. He had seen my stepfather beat her to death. I never thought he'd go that far. But that man was a monster... He had only ruined our family by stealing my Father's wealth, using Maa, and leaving both Saarang and me estranged. We only had each other now.

"Hum baad mein chalenge. Ab jaakar so jao, beta," I insisted, "Nashte ke samay par Didi uthayegi."

(We'll go to her later. For now, you should go to sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time for breakfast.)

"Theek hai," he finally agreed and ran along to Dadi's room to sleep. As the hours rolled on, I returned to my bedroom and opened the almirah, taking out a fresh set of clothes for Bhairav Ji, just as he stepped out of the bathroom.

(Okay.)

"Bukhaar kaisa hai uska?" He asked me.

(How is his fever?)

"A-ab bhi bahut tez hai..." I lied. He hummed and took the clothes from me to change.

(It's still high...)

"Sanjana..." He called just as I was about to leave the room.

"Ji?"

"Tumhari Maa guzar gayi hai... Par tumne kuch kaha hi nahi. Kya tum theek ho?" He asked in concern. I fell quiet, not knowing what to say. "Sab chinta kar rahe hai... Par kal tumhare bhai ke karan kuch puch nahi paya. Tumhe maayke jaana hai?"

(Your mother has died... But you never said anything. Are you alright?)

(Everyone is worried... But because of your little brother, we didn't ask you anything. Do you want to go to her place?)

"Nahi jaana," I whispered without skipping a beat.

(I don't want to go.)

Bhairav Ji came closer. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek and kissed my forehead, "Agar nahi jaana toh phir roh kyu rahi ho?"

(If you don't want to go, then why are you crying?)

Even more tears rolled down my face, and I broke down completely as I hugged him. He let me cry into his chest while running a hand down my back.

"Aakhir mai jaungi kaha? Ghar toh unhone bech diya. Mujhe pata bhi nahi hai ki pichle paanch saalo se woh log kaha rehte the... Us aadmi ne Maa ko maar dala hai, Ji. Saarang ko sab kuch dekhna pada!" I wailed even more.

(Where will I even go? He sold our house. I don't even know where they've been living for the past five years... That man has murdered my mother. Saarang had to see everything!)

Bhairav Ji hugged me tighter, "Shh... Sanjana tumhe agar jaana hai toh mai ghar doondh sakta hu."

(Shh... Sanjana, if you want to go, I can look for their house.)

"Nahi jaana!" I clung to him tighter, "Aapko chodkar mujhe kahi nahi jaana! Aap Saarang ko bhi anaad ashram math bhejiye. Mai uska khayal rakhungi. Mere alawa koi nahi hai uske liye... Aap thoda daya kijiye. Aap use aise anaad math banaiye!"

(I don't want to go! I don't want to leave you and go anywhere! Please don't send Saarang to the orphanage as well. I'll take care of him. He doesn't have anyone except me... Please be a little kind to him. Please don't make him an orphan!)

Bhairav Ji held my face as he frowned at me, "Sanjana meri baat suno. Woh abhi bacha hai. Aur tumhare is haalat mei ek dusre bache ka dhyan rakhna bahut mushkil hai... Mai samajhta hu ki woh tumhara bhai hai par-"

(Sanjana, listen to me. He's still a child. And in your condition, it will be really hard to take care of another child. I can understand that he's your brother, but-)

"Agar Saarang ke jagah Bhargav ya Keshav hote toh aap aisa karenge?" I asked finally.

(If it were Bhargav or Keshav in Saarang's place, would you have done the same?)

My husband's eyes darkened with sudden rage, his hand lifting as if to strike. I instinctively flinched, bracing myself for a sharp slap, but suddenly, a small body clung tightly to my legs and stood between us.

"Didi ko math mariye..." Saarang whispered. I was breathing heavily, tears in my eyes. Bhairav Ji looked furious as he slowly retrieved his hand.

(Don't hit my sister...)

"Zubaan zyada mat chalao... Yeh ladka mere haveli mei nahi rahega!"

(Watch your tongue... This boy is not going to live in my haveli!)

He stormed out of the room, leaving both Saarang and me alone. I didn't understand why he hadn't hit me. Was it because he didn't want Saarang to see it? Or did he truly hesitate out of his conscience? I knew that I had crossed the line talking like that about his family, but... I didn't know how else I could make him understand.

"Didi aap theek ho...?" My little brother asked, looking up at me, "Aap roh kyu rahe ho? Woh kaun hai didi?" I chuckled lightly at his innocence, blinking my tears away as I lifted him into my arms.

(Didi, are you okay? Why are you crying? Who is he, Didi?)

"Woh tumhare Jija Ji hai," I whispered, caressing his little face.

(He's your Jija Ji...)

"Jija Ji bhi bahut bure hai? Baba ke jaise? Aapko bahut marte hai?"

(Is Jija Ji very bad? Just like Father? Does he hit you a lot?)

"Nahi... Woh... Woh bure nahi hai, Saarang," I sighed. I didn't know how to explain my husband's behaviour to the child. I myself was so very confused between what was right and wrong. My little brother hugged me, lying his head on my shoulder, "Jija Ji bahut daraawne hai."

(No... He... He's not bad, Saarang.)

(Jija Ji is very scary.)

"Woh toh hai," I smiled and kissed his head.

(That's true.)