Chapter 8

Ahail, was a hero. Her saviour. Her protector. Or at least, he had been; once upon a time before the whole Arora family descended into the ruins.

Shanaya had been a notorious teenager. With her heart on her sleeve and her mind in her mouth, trouble was always lurking around, and she attracted it like a magnet—picking fights with girls and boys all the same. But Ahail was there. He was always there to clean up her messes. He'd beat up guys and flirt with girls until they thought no more evil of his little sister.

Ahail was the perfect guy—tall, handsome and smart. They were both blessed with a good combination of their parents' genes but while Shanaya struggled with Math, he excelled. With the ability to make friends at just the wave of his hand, he was a charmer. He sang sometimes and played music at pleas of girls. He was the life of every party he attended.

Such was the Ahail she knew and loved and admired.

The one she was about to meet, however, was a completely different person.

What one bad business decision leads to...

Shanaya knocked on his door twice.

"Ahail? Bhai?" She called out.

If he opens the door, I'll treat myself with a pizza, the thought crept into her mind but it went down the drain when she realised he wasn't going to. He never did.

Holding her breath, Shanaya slowly turned the doorknob before stepping in.

His bedroom was dark despite having two windows and calling it messy was only the tip of the iceberg.

Empty boxes were scattered around and placed between piles of unwashed clothes on the floor. When she kicked one of them, an empty beer bottle rolled down and halted when it graced her feet. Shanaya forgot she was supposed to be holding her breath and inhaled the stench of alcohol floating around in the air. It made her gag.

How Dadi tolerated all that and still let him live in the house was beyond the limits of her understanding.

Perhaps because Ahail reminds her of the son she lost, a voice inside her mind claimed and she sighed.

Her brother was sprawled across the length of the bed, lying on his stomach with his eyes closed but she didn't believe he was sleeping. Shanaya walked to the windows and pushed the curtains aside, drenching his resting figure in the 11 A. M. sunlight.

A muffled groan hit her ears and he stirred and shifted in the bed before finally fluttering his eyes open.

"Chachi, please let me sleep," He pleaded in a voice that sounded nothing like his own while covering his head with a pillow.

"Ahail bhai? Wake up," She said softly and padded to the bed before sitting on the edge. Ahail's stirring figure stilled completely before he shoved the pillow to the floor and stared at her with rheumy, bloodshot eyes underlined with bags.

She looked away from his face, pitying him but not soon enough to miss stubble that covered his jaw.

"Ah, Shanaya," He sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. "What are you doing here?" There was a pause before he mumbled, narrowing his eyes, "Its Saturday? Already?"

"Sunday, actually."

"Oh."

"You need a shave," She told him, finally finding the courage to meet his eyes again. They looked back at her apologetically, like they always did. "Dadi has invited over some people for lunch. I saw Mridula and her mom. And Kabir, unsurprisingly. She will want you to look..." She paused, unsure of what word to use then eventually settled with, "presentable."

He nodded in agreement, rubbing his hand over his jaw.

She took a moment to consider his face. There was no charm remaining in it. No beauty. The bright light had left his eyes long ago but he had held onto his intelligent until alcohol eventually took it away from him as well.

She pitied him but never let him see that. Everyone looked at him and sympathised with what he had lost; what he could've become and criticised what he had ended up being. Shanaya knew how much he hated gaining sympathy despite everything.

"Do you need any help?"

He gaped at her. "With what?"

"Shaving your face? Or anything else?" She swept her gaze swiftly across the room.

"I can do it on my own. These still work," He said rudely, lifting his arms to the level of her face.

"Alright, then. Don't make Dadi wait at the table. Be there as soon as you're done. Be polite to our guests. And, I'll take these," Shanaya sighed, eyeing the piles over piles of shirts, tees and trousers.

She carried in her arms as much as she could but before she left, Ahail interrupted her.

"Yes, bhai?"

He considered with her a long gaze before saying, "I'm getting better, Shan. I want you to know that."

Shanaya tried to get a word out of her mouth, but the look in his eyes didn't let her. Finally, she nodded her head and left.

___

When Shanaya reached the dining table, she found an unfamiliar face among those sitting. He was a decently dressed guy with a slit in his eyebrow and ears too big for his face. One look at him and she sensed trouble.

Neil was oddly quite that afternoon, very unlike his usual unsettling self. His mother, Aruna as always gave her the cold shoulder while her husband and Shanaya's uncle, Harish greeted her with his usual friendly calibre. They talked over the others conversations about the proceedings of the business and worldly issues but all chatter ceased the moment her grandmother, Suhala appeared at the table, draped in a crisp creme saree bordered with silver.

Shanaya always admired how the old lady carried herself with sophistication. A glance at her was enough to know she had zero tolerance for nonsense. Her greyed brows were always set firmly, daunting to anyone who looked at her and she moved with an aura of authority which Shanaya was more than glad she had inherited from her grandmother.

"Good afternoon," She greeted everyone in her throaty voice before her gaze swept over each recipient sitting at the table. Everyone smiled back at her but no one matched Mridula's grin that was as wide as her face. "I don't see Ahail."