Ruhanika’s POV

I looked around that room.
Same faces. Same fake concern. Same damn silence.

But my eyes?

They never left Yug.

“So… what were you saying, my dear little brother?”

He flinched.

Good.

“Is this the part where you blame me again? Where you pretend like I’m some villain who just can’t wait to ruin your special moments?”

My voice was calm.
But the storm inside me?
It was ready to burn down every damn wall they built against me.

“You know what’s funny, Yug?”

I took a step closer.
“I never needed an enemy in this house. Because the person I loved most… did a better job at destroying me.”

His lips parted.
No words came out.

Pathetic.
I shook my head, smiling.
A hollow, heartless smile.

“You were the one person I would’ve bled for.”

I didn’t blink.
I wanted him to feel every goddamn word.

"And today… over a cake… over a stupid, damn cake—you looked at me like I was dirt?"
“You should’ve known better, Yug.”
“Because I never needed anyone to break me. My own blood did that for free.”
“I wasn’t your sister today. I was your scapegoat. Your easy blame. Your soft target.”

I stepped back now.

My chest was aching.

But I wasn't going to let it show.

“I hope your birthday was worth the price of my soul.”
“I hope the cake was sweet enough to make you forget who I was.”

And finally, I whispered—
low, sharp, final
“Turns out, betrayal doesn’t always come from enemies. Sometimes, it walks in the shape of a little brother who used to hold your hand and say, ‘Don’t cry, Didi. I’m here.’”

He looked shattered.
But I wasn’t done.

“I hope your cake tastes sweeter than the trust you just broke today.”

He was standing frozen, like guilt hadn’t reached his bones yet.
So I decided to help him feel it.

"Yug..." I said his name like a curse I was done carrying.
"You want to know what else I ruined besides your birthday?"
"Your image in my heart."

He blinked. Silent. Ashamed. But still... not enough.
"You were never my little brother."
"You were just a boy I protected like a fool—because I thought blood was thicker than betrayal."

I tilted my head and whispered so only he could hear:
"But you? You’re just Aarohi in disguise. A prettier version of poison."

His eyes stung. Good. Let them.

I wasn’t done.
"You blamed me without asking."
"You screamed at me in front of everyone."
"And worst of all—you enjoyed it."

"That’s the part I’ll never forgive you for."

He took a breath, lips trembling.

I didn’t care.

"You say you wish you didn’t have a sister like me?" I chuckled. "Trust me, I wish the universe made sure I was born in a house where brothers weren’t so easy to manipulate."

With eyes that no longer had a trace of love, I said:
"You were never my brother. You were just my biggest mistake with a surname."

I looked around.
Faces.
So many familiar faces.
But none of them felt like home anymore.

"And the funny thing is…" I said, almost laughing.
"If this video hadn’t come out—you all would’ve destroyed me again. Just like always."

I turned to my mother.
"You were ready, weren’t you?"
"Ready to humiliate your own daughter in front of the world just to earn a smile from a son who doesn’t even respect women."

She gasped, offended.
I didn’t flinch.
"You always said a girl brings shame if she doesn’t behave."
"But what about the shame a mother brings when she watches her daughter burn—and calls it discipline?"

I looked at Aarohi's mother and smiled like venom.
"And you—thanks for raising such a good little actress. Your daughter lies with confidence. Maybe one day you’ll lie to yourself and finally sleep at night."

Aarohi opened her mouth to say something.
I raised my hand.
"Don’t. Not a word. You’ve had years to spread poison. Let me have five minutes to cough it out."

I turned to Yug again.

My voice cracked—but not from weakness.
"You think it was fun for me growing up in this house?"

"With brothers who defended outsiders, but interrogated their own blood like criminals?"

I took a breath and whispered:
"You think it’s easy to be Ruhanika Khanna?"
"To be loved conditionally? Trusted occasionally? And blamed regularly?"

I looked around again.
"Everyone in this house loves me—but only when it’s convenient."

"And when it’s not?"

I pointed to myself.
"This. Right here. Is what you turn me into. The villain."

Then I looked at Yug one last time
And then softly… a whisper that felt like a dagger.

"Happy birthday, Yug."
"I hope every candle you blow out tonight reminds you of the light you killed in me."

I walked out without turning back.

No guilt.
No heaviness.
Just that weird emptiness when you realize—
You're not shocked anymore. You're just done.

And then I heard footsteps behind me.
Of course.

Veer Bhai. Vikram Bhai.

My constants.
I turned around slowly…
And the second I saw them—my heart just broke.

I didn’t hold back.
I hugged Veer Bhai tight.

"Thank you..."
My voice cracked before I could finish.

"If you hadn’t done this today…"
"Maybe again I would’ve blamed myself. Questioned myself."
"But now… I won’t."

I stepped back and looked at both of them.
"I mean seriously… just for a cake?"
"Such cheapness. Such hate. For cake cutting?"

Veer Bhai looked at me—eyes filled with silent rage.

But it was Vikram Bhai who spoke next.
"They just need a reason, Ruhanika."
"Cake… pencil… a damn napkin."
"Anything works when people are dying to hate you."

I nodded.

Because he was right.

And then he asked the thing I was already thinking—

"But why don’t you  say more anything back to them?"

I looked at him and smirked.
"Say what, Bhai?"
"To Bhuaji? Aarohi? They’re not just heartless—
They’re shameless.
"Words won’t touch people who don’t have ears for truth."
"Even if I scream, it won’t matter to them. They’re made of poison."

"And about Dadu-Dadi… they trust me."

I looked at them, my eyes softer now.
"But you two…"
"You two proved me right."

"Thank you. For being my brothers when I had none."

And I hugged them both again.

Tightly.

Yug’s POV

I stood there…
Stuck.
Breath shallow. Hands cold. Mind… nowhere.

I don’t know what happened.
One second it was all normal, the next—
Ruhanika came storming in like a wildfire I couldn’t stop, and Aarohi Didi just… collapsed under her flames.

I turned to Aarohi di confused, desperate.
“Why did you do this?” I asked her.

And she said it.
“That video was fake.”

I wanted to believe her.
I swear, a part of me was begging to believe her.
But then…

Rudransh Bhai stepped forward.
“That video was not fake,” he said. “Just tell me, Aarohi… why did you do this?”

Rohan Bhai’s voice turned dark.
Dangerous.
“Just tell us the truth, Aarohi. Otherwise, I will do something that I’ll regret.”

Then she came.
Her mother.
“Why do you believe that, Rohan?” she asked. “Because she doesn’t belong here anymore?”

But Kabir Bhai didn’t stay silent.
“We asked Aarohi,” he snapped, eyes burning. “Aarohi, why the hell did you do this?”

And Aarohi still had the audacity to lie.
She looked straight at us and said, “I didn’t, Bhai… she did this. I’m sorry.”

She still blamed Ruhanika.
Even after everything.
And then…

Then Rudransh Bhai exploded.
His voice… it wasn’t a voice anymore.
It was war.
“AAROHIII! WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!”

She collapsed on the ground,
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice shaking.
“I just wanted… I just wanted to make Ruhanika the villain again in your lives. I wanted Yug to take my side. I couldn’t lose to her again.”

My heart stopped.

“I told you all seven years ago,” she cried, “how she bullied me… but now you trust her more than me. So I did it. I made the video. I framed her.”

Rohan Bhai looked away in disgust.
Kabir Bhai clenched his fists.
Rudransh Bhai? He just turned around, like he couldn’t bear to see her anymore.

And I…
I just stared.

But I turned to her—
Looked at the girl I called my Aarohi Didi—
And I asked her the one thing that still haunted my mind.

“That mark you showed me… those words you said…”
My voice trembled.
“Was that also just to make me take your side?”

Her eyes widened, flickering with desperation.
“No! You—you said that Dadu told you about the mark—”

But before she could even twist the sentence, Kabir Bhai stepped forward.
Furious.
Done.

“Enough.”
His voice was low. Dangerous.

“Which mark are you even talking about, Aarohi?”

She flinched.
And then…
Vikram Bhai walked in.
I didn’t even know he had seen everything.
But there he was—
Eyes sharper than a blade. Jaw tight. Rage ready to spill.

“The mark on your hand, right?” he asked.
“And you made Yug believe that was because of Ruhanika?”

Aarohi went quiet.

“You want to talk about the mark?” he said, his voice so calm it was terrifying.
“Fine. Let’s talk about that damn mark.”

Aarohi flinched.
Everyone turned.

He stepped forward, eyes locked on her, and then… on me.
No softness.
No hesitation.

“The mark you’re talking about wasn’t because of Ruhanika,” he said.
“It was because Aarohi threw a candle at her.”

“What?” I whispered.

Vikram didn’t stop.
“On Your birthday, Ruhanika stood up for herself. She said the decoration was hers. HER effort. HER work. And Aarohi couldn’t take it.”
“So she picked up a burning candle… and threw it.”

I staggered.
“Ruhanika tried to protect herself. She backed away and raised her hand. And in that split second, the candle hit Aarohi instead.”
“That’s the scar. That’s the truth.”

He looked at me.
And I swear, I’ve never seen so much venom in someone’s eyes.
“She told you she was hurt, and you believed it.”
“She told you Ruhanika was violent, and you followed blindly.”
“You stood there like some loyal fool, defending the mark she got… while trying to harm someone else.”

No.

No, this can’t be—this can’t—

“You let her feed you lies,” Vikram hissed.
“You let her mark become Ruhanika’s weapon.”

My legs felt weak.

“You let a wound meant for Ruhanika become your reason to hate her.”

And then he came closer.
Face to face.
Pain carved deep into every word.

“You were her safe place, Yug.”
“And you became her sharpest blade.”

Silence.
Heavy. Brutal.

“All this pain. All this destruction. Just for a mark?”
He laughed bitterly.
“You let her build a world of lies on a single scar.”

I looked at Aarohi…

But all I saw was a stranger.

A girl who painted herself a victim
While the real victim bled alone
Day after day.
Night after night.
And I?

I watched her bleed.

AUTHOR POV

In her room, Ruhanika sat cross-legged on the bed, phone propped up as she stayed on video call with Yuvraj. Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned with something darker.

She told him everything that had happened. Every detail. Every flicker of truth that had slipped through cracks.

Yuvraj just gave a small chuckle, shaking his head.
“Truth has a habit of coming to light, Ruhanika. Life can’t hide it forever.”

She scoffed. “Truth come or not, I don’t care. Because this family?” Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “They’re just for media’s sake. Nothing is real here. Nothing.”

Her voice dipped lower. “And Aarohi’s one truth is already out… but the seven years of manipulation? The way she bullied me, cornered me, humiliated me? None of that has come out yet.”

She looked right into the camera.
“I want to expose Aarohi, Yuvraj. Every single thing. Every deed.”

Yuvraj studied her face for a moment. “Are you sure? You know if the guilt comes… they’ll try to come back to you.”

“I don’t care,” she said without a pause. “And I will never accept them. But I want Aarohi in the spotlight now. I want to see their faces when they finally know what I endured. This is not just revenge anymore. This is truth. This is… justice.”

Her voice hardened. “Now… mission Expose Aarohi.”

Yuvraj’s lips curved into a smirk. “I’m with you. Always.”

She gave a small nod, a faint smile ghosting over her lips. “Good. Because… and I don’t want to admit it, but… Rudransh, Kabir, and Rohan don’t trust Aarohi the way they used to. And honestly—” She let out a short, cold laugh.
“It’s funny. It’s really, really funny.”

Yuvraj’s voice on the screen was steady, certain.
“Fine then. Let’s start. Aarohi thinks she’s smart… but she’s not.”
Ruhanika’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a challenge. But before she could reply, a sharp knock echoed through her room.

She glanced at the door, then back at the screen. “Yuvraj, I’ll talk to you later. Someone’s here.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “Take care. Be strong.”

The call ended, the screen going black. Silence pressed into the room for a second before she walked over and pulled the door open.

And there stood her mother.

The woman’s face held that strained, carefully painted expression — a mix of guilt, forced softness, and something that was supposed to be concern.

“Ruhanika,” she began, her tone low, almost too gentle. “We… we were talking, and I just wanted to say… everything we did was for your own good. You might not see it now, but we cared. We always cared.”

Ruhanika didn’t speak. Her mother stepped inside without asking, eyes roaming the room like she owned the air.

“We had to make decisions. You were young. You didn’t understand the pressure we were under. Aarohi—” she hesitated, voice tightening, “—Aarohi was trying to help you in her way. Maybe it didn’t seem right to you, but it was never to hurt you. We wanted you to… grow stronger. To be prepared for the world.”

It was the same old script, dressed up as guilt but laced with poison. The kind of “we did it for you” that twisted blame back onto the victim.

Her mother’s eyes softened artificially, as if she expected Ruhanika to melt under the act. “You might think we were wrong… but one day, you’ll see we were right. We did what was best for you, even if you hate us now.”

Ruhanika just stared at her — not blinking, not moving, the weight of seven years of betrayal sitting heavy in her chest.

Ruhanika leaned back against her desk, arms folded.
“Best for me?” she said flatly. “You stood there and watched her break me. And you call that ‘best for me’?”

Her mother’s jaw tightened. “You think it was easy for us? We had to choose what would keep the family’s name safe.”

Ruhanika’s voice didn’t rise. “No. You chose what was easiest for you. And Aarohi gave you a reason to look away.”

For a second, the room was quiet, tension crackling in the air. Her mother’s eyes darted, the softness fading for a moment before she caught herself.

She sighed, switching tactics. “I don’t want to fight with you, Ruhanika. But… if you really want things to get better, you need to leave that boy. Yuvraj is only making this worse. People are talking. You’re already carrying so much… don’t add him to it.”

Ruhanika’s lips curled slightly — not in a smile, but in something sharper. “You’re worried about people talking? I’ve been their favorite story for seven years, and you never cared then. So why now?”

Her mother’s face stiffened, a flicker of frustration slipping through. “Because you’re letting him pull you away from your own family.”

“Family?” Ruhanika’s voice was quiet, but it hit like a blade. “You made sure I never had one.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy. Ugly. Her mother’s hand tightened on the edge of the chair before she finally said, “One day, you’ll regret talking to me like this.”

Ruhanika didn’t even blink. “I already regret thinking you’d ever understand.”

Her mother left without another word. And the moment the door clicked shut, Ruhanika’s phone lit up with a message from Yuvraj.

“Ready for step one?”

Ruhanika had barely picked up her phone to answer Yuvraj’s message when another knock came at her door.

Her shoulders stiffened. She opened it — and there was Rohan, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“What do you want?” her tone was flat.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what? Not trusting me?” she shot back without hesitation.

Rohan shook his head. “We… we trusted you. We knew you didn’t do this. But you didn’t listen, you just—”

“Oh, you guys never trusted me,” she cut in, her voice sharp but controlled. “But thank you for trusting me now. That’s the best thing you’ve ever done in your life. Now… leave.”

“Ruhanika, please… we— I mean… just, seven years before—”

She stepped closer, her eyes locking on his. “What? Seven years before? Tell me, Rohan… you trust me, right? You said you trusted me. You even defended me downstairs. So tell me… will you still trust me when I tell you that Aarohi was the one who bullied me for years?”

Rohan froze.

Her voice didn’t waver. “What if I tell you Aarohi manipulated you? What if I tell you Aarohi once locked me in the storeroom during my 10th boards… and you all thought I’d gone to a party?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.

“What if I tell you my academic downfall was because of Aarohi and her friends, because they made my life hell in school? And that’s just one thing.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing.

“Will you trust me then, Rohan?”

The silence between them felt like it could cut skin.

Rohan’s voice dropped. “Are you telling the truth? I mean… we saw the scars—”

“That scar was just an illusion,” Ruhanika cut in coldly. “I sent you texts. I sent you infinite messages. I sent you infinite letters—”

“Ruhanika, wait a minute.” Rohan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “You sent us texts? Letters? We never got any letter, Ruhanika. Trust me — we never did. And we never got any message from your side. Never.”

He took a breath, almost rushing the words. “We always used to call once a week to talk to you in the hostel… but the hostel ma’am always said you didn’t want to talk to us. And one day — on your birthday — after a year, we came to surprise you. But the hostel said you didn’t even want to see our faces. They said if you saw us… you’d rather die. That’s why we stopped visiting you after that.”

Ruhanika froze. Her eyes locked on him. “Wait a minute. I never told anyone I didn’t want to meet you guys. And nobody in the hostel ever told me you came to see me.”

Her voice sharpened. “You’re lying, Rohan. Right?”

Rohan shook his head, deadly serious. “Trust me, Ruhanika. I swear on Papa, I’m telling the truth.”

She exhaled slowly, her mind racing. “Miscommunication…”

“Yes, maybe—” Rohan began, but she cut in.

“Maybe? Are we sure it’s just miscommunication? Because I’m damn sure it’s not. Will you come with me to the hostel… to see for yourself?”

“Yes,” Rohan said without hesitation. “And if what you said is true… I will make Aarohi pay.”

Ruhanika let out a small, humorless chuckle. “You’ll make Aarohi pay… but who will make you pay, Rohan?” She stepped back, her hand on the door. “Leave. We’ll see tomorrow.”

She was about to close it when Rohan’s voice stopped her.

“I trust you. And now… I will dig the truth for you. For us… my twin.”