"I am going," I said and left.
You must be wondering where.
I was going to meet Grandpa Charles.
It was his birthday today.
I carried a small cake, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and his favorite beer in my hands. I was oddly happy while going there—as if he would smile at me the moment he saw me. The cemetery felt quiet, almost gentle, the kind of quiet that presses against your chest.
But when I reached there, I saw Aarne sitting near his grave, crying softly, Avi in her arms.
My heart sank.
I walked toward her and sat beside her.
"Don't cry," I said gently. "He'll get sad on his birthday. Please."
I placed the bouquet near the gravestone, opened the beer cans—I had bought three without even realizing—and handed one to Anvi. We clinked the cans lightly.
"Cheers," I whispered.
"Hi, Grandpa Charles," I said, my voice shaking. "I missed you."
I took a deep breath, then continued, as if he was sitting right in front of me.
"I came to tell you about myself. I'm going to be a mommy."
A small smile broke through my tears.
"Sarthak proposed to me. Everyone is happy… but I miss you."
My voice cracked.
"After you left, none of us went to your house. It's empty without you. We all are doing fine in our lives, Grandpa. Your granddaughter has a son now. We're smiling, laughing… but we're alone without you."
Tears rolled down uncontrollably.
"I don't know where you are now, but please be happy. I am trying to be happy too. I brought your favorite cake, flowers, and beer. I miss you so much."
I cried heavily then, completely breaking. Anvi pulled me closer, offering her shoulder.
"Samira, you shouldn't drink," she said softly.
"You're right," I nodded, wiping my tears with my sleeve. "I won't."
She took the can from my hand.
"We should go now," she said gently.
I stood up, smiled through my tears, and whispered,
"Bye, Grandpa. Bye-bye."
Before leaving, I placed the watch on his grave—the one Grandma had given him.
Then we got into the car and left.
When I reached home, the house was buzzing. Decorations, laughter, voices everywhere.
I walked into the kitchen.
"Mom, is anyone coming today?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied casually. "Tomorrow is Jai and Manya's engagement. Don't you know?"
"What?" I gasped. "She didn't tell me!"
I rushed to her room. She was sitting there calmly.
"You're getting engaged and you didn't tell me?" I cried. "Am I not your bestie?"
She laughed and pulled me into a hug.
"You are. Don't cry."
She stood up, took out a dress, and held it in front of me.
"And you're wearing this."
My eyes widened.
It was the same Cinderella gown I had tried when we went shopping for Anvi.
"And now," she said, dragging me, "let's go."
While leaving, we saw Tina.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
" shopping " I answered,
"You should come with us, sissy," Manya said.
I nodded instantly.
Tina's face lit up. "Really?"
"Yes," I smiled. "Let's go."
At the mall, the showroom sparkled with soft lights, mirrors everywhere, racks full of gowns that looked like dreams stitched into fabric.
A girl approached us.
"Good morning, ma'am. How can I help you?"
"I want an engagement dress," Manya said.
"Which color do you prefer?" the girl asked.
"Purple," Manya replied confidently. "With emerald detailing."
The assistant smiled. "Ellie will show you some gowns, ma'am."
She led Manya to the trial room. Tina wandered off, looking for something elegant yet simple for herself. I sat outside, flipping through a magazine.
"Ma'am, would you like something to drink?" another assistant asked.
"Two cold coffees, please," I said.
Just then, the curtain opened.
Manya stepped out.
She was wearing a deep purple gown, the fabric flowing softly around her, emerald stones glimmering at her waist. She looked unreal—graceful, glowing, nervous, happy.
I was mesmerized.
So was Tina.
That gown was finalized instantly.
Then we chose a soft pastel gown for Tina—subtle, classy, with delicate embroidery. She looked beautiful, her smile warm and shy.
We returned home laughing, tired, and happy.
That night, everyone sat on the couch, looking through old photographs—childhood memories, school days, silly smiles.
Everything felt perfect.
Only one thing hurt—Sarthak was on a trip. He wouldn't be there for his own sister's engagement.
We went to our rooms and slept.
The next day arrived like a celebration.
Lights were being fixed, marigold garlands decorated the hall, flowers filled every corner. Soft music played in the background. We went to the salon in the afternoon, getting ready, laughing, teasing each other.
Sarthak still wasn't back.
By evening, we reached the engagement hall. The place looked magical—gold and white décor, fairy lights twinkling, flowers everywhere, guests smiling.
And then—Sarthak arrived.
I smiled in relief.
But just as happiness settled in, my phone rang.
One call.
One voice.
And suddenly, my entire world turned upside down.
Because the caller knew the truth about my brother's death.