The evening air in the hostel room was still and heavy, but the weight on my spirit felt lighter thanks to Jenny's friendship.

  I finally picked up my small, simple phone—the one Dadu had grudgingly allowed me to carry—and walked out to the quiet end of the corridor where the signal was strongest. It was time to call...Maa.

  I pressed the familiar numbers, and the sound of the line connecting felt like a slender thread stretching nine hundred kilometers back to the quiet, secure walls of my home in Jodhpur.

  Maa answered on the second ring, her voice soft but immediately tinged with concern. “Hello? Shrishti? Are you alright? You should have called sooner.”

  “I’m fine, Maa,” I rushed to assure her, keeping my tone bright and steady. I knew I had to sound convincing. “I’m completely settled. Dadu made sure everything was perfect before he left.”

  “He is on the train now,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice. “He said the city was… very fast. Are you sure you are comfortable, child? Is the hostel room clean? Are the students decent?”

  “It’s a wonderful room, Maa. Very clean and safe,” I lied smoothly about the students, knowing the truth about the college's modern mix would only worry her.

  “I have a roommate already, Jenny. She’s from Delhi, very friendly, and very studious. We’ve already started planning our study schedule.”

  I heard the sound of a cooking pot clanging faintly in the background, a familiar domestic sound that suddenly made me deeply homesick. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to focus on the performance.

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  “The campus is huge, Maa, and so impressive. The library is enormous. I had my orientation today, and I just know I’m going to learn so much. I promise you, I’m only focused on my books.”

  “And the food? Is it simple enough for you?” she asked, her attention turning, predictably, to my well-being.

  “It’s fine, Maa. Not your cooking, of course,” I said, managing a gentle laugh. “But I won’t starve.”

  There was a pause, a moment of unspoken understanding passing between us, despite the distance. She knew I was holding something back, but she also knew I wouldn't tell her anything that would fuel the fire of the aunts or bring Dadu's swift command to return.

  “Shrishti,” she finally said, her voice dropping to a low, earnest tone. “Your uncles, your aunts—they are all waiting to see if you will bring the family honor or… shame. You remember your promise to your Dadu. Don’t get distracted by the city’s lights or its ways. Complete your studies, and then you come home.”

  The recent encounter with Aditya, the torn letter, the humiliating dismissal—it all surged back. The anger, however, was now a powerful motivator.

  “I remember every word, Maa,” I said, my voice quiet but fierce.

  “I am here for Papa’s dream. I won't let anyone down. Tell Dadu that I am safe, and that I have already started preparing to be the best student here. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Good, my child,” she murmured, sounding truly comforted. “May God bless your hard work. Now, you must sleep. We will talk again soon.”

  As I hung up the phone, I leaned my head against the cool concrete wall. The conversation was a success. I had established the facade: settled, secure, and purely focused on studies.

  But as I walked back to my room, the memory of Aditya Singhania’s cold, handsome face and his callous dismissal fueled a new, sharper ambition. He thought I was a scared cat? He thought I would bother him again?

  No. I wouldn't bother him. I would simply surpass him.