Two years had passed since the day Urvi walked away from everything she once called home.
The world she lived in now was very different from the one she had left behind.
Far away from the noise of the city, in the misty hills of Ooty, Urvi had built a quiet, almost invisible life for herself. Her small cottage stood between endless stretches of tea plantations, where rows of green bushes rolled down the hills like waves frozen in time. Tall eucalyptus trees swayed gently in the cool wind, their scent filling the crisp mountain air.
Mornings arrived slowly in Ooty.
Mist would blanket the hills like a soft veil, and the distant calls of birds echoed through the valleys. The cold air seeped through the wooden windows of her house, often waking Urvi before sunrise.
She had grown used to the silence.
But silence had a cruel way of awakening memories.
Sometimes, when she stood outside with a cup of tea in her hands, she could almost hear Jinni's laughter in the wind. Other times, she imagined Joy's tiny footsteps running across the wooden floor.
Those memories never left her.
No matter how far she had run.
No matter how deeply she tried to bury them.
At night, when the hills grew dark and the fog thickened around her lonely house, guilt wrapped itself around her heart like an unbreakable chain.
You left them.
The thought echoed inside her mind again and again.
And in those quiet hours, Urvi often wondered if she deserved the peace she was trying to build.
It was during this lonely chapter of her life that she met Marcos.
He lived in a small cottage not far from hers, perched slightly higher on the hillside. At first, Urvi noticed him simply as a quiet presence in the neighborhood.
Marcos was hard to miss.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome in a rugged sort of way. His sharp jawline and well-defined features gave him the appearance of a man carved out of stone.
But what made people notice him most were his eyes.
They were clouded.
Blind.
Yet strangely expressive.
Even without sight, Marcos carried himself with a quiet confidence that made others instinctively respect him. But beneath that strength, there was something else—a deep, lingering sadness that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Almost every evening, he could be found sitting alone on the wooden bench outside his cottage.
Listening.
To the wind.
To the rustling leaves.
To memories only he could see.
Urvi had noticed him several times while returning from her walks through the tea plantations.
One evening, as she passed by, Marcos spoke unexpectedly.
"You're the woman from the cottage down the hill."
Urvi paused, surprised.
"You noticed?" she asked.
Marcos gave a faint smile.
"When you lose your sight, you learn to notice other things."
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear.
"Your footsteps are careful," he said softly. "Like someone who carries too many thoughts."
Urvi didn't know how to respond to that.
But strangely, she found herself sitting beside him.
And that was how their quiet companionship began.
Over time, they started sharing tea in the evenings, sitting together while the fog rolled slowly across the hills.
At first, their conversations were simple.
Weather.
Life in Ooty.
Small things.
But one evening, as they sat watching the fading sunset, Marcos finally spoke about the person who still haunted his heart.
"Heer," he said softly.
The name lingered in the air.
Urvi noticed the way his fingers tightened slightly around his teacup.
"She was the only person who ever loved me for who I truly was."
His voice carried both warmth and pain.
"She didn't care that I was blind," he continued quietly. "She used to say my world was beautiful because I felt it more deeply than others."
A faint smile appeared on his face as memories returned to him.
"She laughed a lot," he murmured. "And when she laughed, it felt like sunlight."
Urvi listened silently.
Marcos spoke slowly, recalling moments that clearly meant everything to him.
The way Heer used to guide him through crowded streets.
The warmth of her hand resting in his.
The quiet nights they spent talking about dreams and futures that never came true.
"She made me feel whole," he said.
For a moment, his voice softened with the tenderness of love.
Then suddenly, it hardened.
"But she was taken from me."
Urvi's brow furrowed.
"What happened?" she asked gently.
Marcos's jaw tightened.
"Her husband killed her."
The words fell like stones.
"Veer," he continued bitterly. "He found out about us."
Marcos's fingers curled slowly into fists.
"He couldn't tolerate that she loved someone else."
Urvi felt a chill run down her spine.
"I want justice," Marcos said quietly.
"Not just for me."
"For the love that was destroyed."
The pain in his voice struck something deep inside Urvi.
She saw a reflection of her own grief in him.
Both of them had lost their worlds.
Both of them carried guilt and pain that never seemed to fade.
And slowly, without realizing it, Urvi began to care.
"I'll help you," she said finally.
Marcos turned his blind gaze toward her.
"You will?"
Urvi nodded.
"Yes."
Her voice was firm.
"I'll find the truth."
And so she began investigating.
The search consumed her days and nights.
Urvi spent hours digging through records, tracing addresses, calling old contacts who owed her favors. She followed whispers and rumors, slowly piecing together fragments of information about Veer and Heer.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks turned into months.
Finally, one afternoon, she found them.
Urvi stood across the street, hidden behind a tree.
Her heart pounded as she watched the small house before her.
In the garden, a little boy ran across the grass, laughing loudly.
A woman chased him playfully.
Heer.
Urvi recognized her instantly.
And standing near the door, watching them with quiet affection, was a man.
Veer.
They looked… happy.
Peaceful.
Alive.
The little boy ran into Veer's arms, giggling as his father lifted him into the air.
Heer laughed softly beside them.
The scene felt painfully perfect.
Urvi's chest tightened.
How could she do this to Marcos?
For days, Urvi followed Heer quietly.
Watching.
Waiting.
Trying to understand the truth.
Finally, one afternoon, she saw her chance.
Heer was alone outside a small grocery store.
Urvi approached quickly and grabbed her wrist.
Heer gasped in shock.
"Why are you lying to Marcos?" Urvi demanded sharply.
"He believes you're dead!"
Heer froze.
Her eyes darted around nervously before settling back on Urvi.
"I don't know who Marcos is," she replied stiffly.
"You must have the wrong person."
But Urvi saw it.
That tiny flicker of recognition.
The guilt.
She tightened her grip.
"Don't lie to me," Urvi said coldly.
"If you don't tell him the truth, I will."
Her voice lowered dangerously.
"And so will Veer."
Heer's face turned pale.
She leaned closer, her voice trembling with desperation.
"Please… keep your mouth shut."
Urvi's eyes widened.
"So you admit it."
Heer's shoulders sagged.
"Yes," she whispered. "I lied to him."
Tears filled her eyes.
"But I had no choice."
She glanced toward the road where her house stood in the distance.
"I have a child with Veer now," she said quietly. "I can't destroy my family for a mistake from my past."
Her voice broke.
"Please… don't tell anyone."
For a moment, Urvi said nothing.
Heer's desperation struck painfully close to home.
A mother protecting her child.
A woman terrified of losing her family.
Urvi remembered Jinni.
Joy.
The terrible choices she had made in her own life.
Slowly, her grip loosened.
Without another word, she stepped back.
That night, Urvi sat alone in her dimly lit room.
The phone rested in her trembling hands.
She dialed a number she hadn't called in years.
Ankur.
The phone rang.
And rang.
But no one answered.
The silence on the other end felt unbearable.
A reminder that she truly had no one left.
By morning, she had made her decision.
Later that day, Urvi sat beside Marcos on the familiar wooden bench.
The wind moved gently through the eucalyptus trees.
"Did you find anything?" Marcos asked quietly.
Urvi swallowed.
Her heart felt heavy.
"Yes," she said softly.
Marcos turned toward her.
"And?"
Urvi forced the words out.
"Heer is alive."
Marcos's expression didn't change.
But Urvi saw his fingers tighten slightly.
"She moved on," Urvi continued.
"She doesn't love you anymore."
The silence that followed felt endless.
"She's happy," Urvi finished quietly.
Marcos sat completely still.
His blind eyes shimmered faintly, though no tears fell.
After a long moment, he nodded.
Just once.
His jaw clenched tightly as if he were holding back something powerful.
But he said nothing.
And the wind carried their silence across the lonely hills of Ooty.