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As soon as Vihaan entered his apartment, Drishti bombarded him with a barrage of questions.

"What is she like? Is she pretty? Does she want to meet me? Did you set up a meeting?"

"Yes, to your last three questions. Now please hold on for a moment," Vihaan said, gently pushing her hyperactive body away and settling her at arm's length.

Drishti's face was radiant with excitement, her hands waving like a baby's, her ponytail swinging, and her glittering green eyes—Divyanshi Trilok's eyes—staring into him, desperate for information.

"Don't be a spoil sport, Uncle Vihaan. I'm dying to know all about her."

"Let me pay Mrs. Soodh first."

Mrs. Janaki Soodh, a woman in her mid-fifties, was Drishti's nanny.

"Vihaan beta, you're back?" The woman smiled warmly at him.

"Yes, Janaki aunty. Were there any calls for me on the landline? My phone seemed to be out of network coverage during the journey."

"Oh yes, Sandhya had called. No one else."

"Okay, I will call her back tomorrow," Vihaan said.

Janak