The morning air in Mumbai was already sticky with humidity, but I felt a cool, exhilarating confidence settling over me. Today was the first day of my new life. Today, I was taking the first real step towards fulfilling Papa's dream.

  For this momentous occasion, I had chosen the most beautiful outfit in my trunk: a soft, delicate pink Anarkali suit with a flowing chiffon dupatta, the shade of a pale rose. Papa had bought it for me on my sixteenth birthday, just a few months before the accident. The fabric, rich and finely stitched, made me feel less like a timid girl from Jodhpur and more like the ambitious student I was determined to become. I let my long hair down, falling past my waist, a small, daring rebellion against the neat braid Dadi always insisted upon. Catching my reflection in the small hostel mirror, I saw the girl my father always said I was-a girl destined for something big. An angel, perhaps, ready to take flight.

  Jenny, already dressed in a smart, crisp white shirt and jeans, whistled. "Wow, Shrishti. You look stunning. Seriously, an angel landed on campus today."

  I blushed, adjusting the dupatta. "It's for Papa," I whispered. "He loved this suit."

  Together, we headed to the main auditorium of the Mumbai Institute of Management Studies. The hall buzzed with hundreds of students, a thrilling, overwhelming crowd. Every face was young, eager, and full of ambition. I walked tall, a fierce sense of purpose burning in my chest. I was here. I had been given this chance, and I was going to make my family proud, proving that their leap of faith in me was worth the risk.

  The orientation was a blur of speeches and introductions. Then, the announcement came for the Mentorship Program.

  "We believe in guided growth," the Dean announced. "Every fresher will be paired with a senior student who will act as a guide, counselor, and support system for the year."

  My heart fluttered. A senior mentor! Someone who knew the ropes. This felt like a genuine hand of friendship extended from this intimidating new world.

  A student volunteer handed out sealed envelopes. My hands shook slightly as I tore mine open.

  Jenny, ripping hers open with typical impatience, gasped happily. "Yes! I got Meera-a second-year gold medalist! The smart girl with the awesome TEDx talk. I heard she's brilliant and super understanding."

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  I looked down at my own paper. Written in bold black ink was a single name:

  Aditya Singhania.

  My first thought was a simple, anxious question: What would he be like? Would he be kind, patient, and focused on studies, like Meera? Or would he be one of those typical arrogant seniors? I knew nothing about him, just the sharp, clean sound of his name.

  We decided to find our mentors immediately. The corridor outside the auditorium was a torrent of nervous energy. Jenny, using her Delhi confidence, spotted a group of seniors.

  "There she is!" Jenny grabbed my arm and dragged me over.

  Jenny's mentor, Meera, was exactly as described-poised, with an easy, warm smile. After exchanging introductions and promises of immediate support, Jenny turned to Meera.

  "So, Meera, I'm good to go! But my friend Shrishti still needs to find her mentor. Do you know where she can find Aditya Singhania?"

  Meera's smile immediately faltered. The group of senior girls standing around her stiffened, exchanging quick, knowing glances.

  One of the girls, tall and sharp-featured, looked directly at me. Her expression was one of genuine pity.

  "Aditya Singhania?" she drawled, her voice dripping with pity. "Oh, poor girl. She got the devil's den."

  A bolt of icy fear shot through me, sending a violent shiver down my spine. Devil's Den? What did that even mean? Was he mean? A bully? Would he make my two years here a nightmare? After everything I went through to get here, was I now shackled to some terror?

  Meera instantly cut in, her voice tight with authority. "Stop it, Maya, that's not funny! She's just joking, Shrishti. Don't listen to her." Meera then bit her lip, thinking hard for a moment. "Look, Aditya... he's a bit unusual. He isn't always around the academic block. But you might find him at this time..." She paused, then pointed down a hallway. "Try the football ground near the west gate. He must be there."

  Jenny's face fell, but she recovered quickly, her loyalty shining through. "I'm sure he's fine, Shrishti. Maybe he just loves sports!"

  "I have to go with Meera now, Shrishti. We're meeting the finance club head. You go and find him, and call me the moment you've met him!" Jenny gave me a quick, reassuring squeeze and hurried away with Meera.

  I was left alone, standing in the bustling corridor, clutching my mentor letter. My excitement had curdled into fear. Devil's Den.

  I took a deep breath, smoothing down the soft fabric of my Anarkali. I was Shrishti Verma, the girl who defied an entire joint family to get to Mumbai. I couldn't let a name scare me off.

  I started walking towards the west gate, my silk shoes whispering on the polished floor.

  What devil? I muttered to myself, trying to reclaim my courage. What will he do? Will he eat me alive? My innocence might be evident in my attire, but my spirit wouldn't break this easily. I was going to meet my mentor, no matter what nickname the seniors had given him.