Time flies faster than anything.

A week passed in what felt like the blink of an eye, and soon Harshvardhan, Savitri, Rupali, and little Ruhi were on their way to Manali.

The journey was pleasant. Snow-kissed mountains stood tall in the distance, their peaks hidden beneath drifting clouds. Pine trees lined the winding roads, while the cool breeze carried with it the scent of fresh earth and cedar.

Ruhi sat comfortably in Savitri’s lap, her tiny fingers pointing excitedly outside the car window.

"Dadi... dekho! Bade bade ped!"

Savitri chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"Haan meri pari, bahut bade ped."

Rupali, seated beside them, clicked pictures of the scenic beauty through her phone.

"Manali never disappoints," she murmured.

Harshvardhan smiled faintly while driving, but behind that smile was an emptiness none of them voiced aloud.

Vedant’s absence lingered like an unspoken shadow.

Still, today was meant to be about family.

And perhaps fate had already begun weaving something beautiful.

At the Sharma house, preparations were in full swing.

The aroma of freshly cooked food drifted through every corner of the home.

In the kitchen, Kritika stood beside the stove, carefully stirring a large pot of kheer.

Her mother, Sharmistha, was arranging serving bowls nearby.

"Maa, ye zara chakh kar batayiye," Kritika said, offering a spoonful.

Sharmistha tasted it and smiled warmly.

"Bilkul perfect."

Kritika quickly filled a small bowl with plain kheer and kept it aside before adding chopped almonds and cashews to the main pot.

Sharmistha noticed.

"Alag kyun rakha?"

Kritika looked up.

"Papa ne kaha tha na Uncle ji ki poti bhi aa rahi hai. Agar woh bahut chhoti hui toh dry fruits gale mein atak sakte hain."

For a moment, Sharmistha simply stared at her daughter.

Then a soft smile spread across her face.

"Kitna sochti hai tu sabke liye."

Kritika laughed lightly.

"Bas precaution."

Soon, the sound of a car stopping outside made Shekhar grin.

"Lagta hai aa gaye!"

He hurried to the entrance.

As the Rana family stepped out, warm greetings filled the air.

"Harsh!" Shekhar exclaimed, pulling his friend into a tight embrace.

"Kitne saalon baad."

Harshvardhan smiled.

"Dosti wahi hoti hai jo saalon baad bhi waise hi lage."

The women exchanged warm smiles and respectful greetings.

Kritika and Shrutika bent to touch Harshvardhan and Savitri’s feet.

Khush raho," Savitri blessed lovingly.

Then Kritika’s eyes landed on the tiny sleeping bundle in Savitri’s arms.

Her expression instantly softened.

"Kitni pyari hai..."

Rupali smiled knowingly.

"Sab isi ko dekhkar pighal jaate hain."

Kritika moved slightly closer, careful not to wake her.

Ruhi’s tiny lashes rested against her cheeks, her little hand curled into a fist.

Something about the child made Kritika’s heart melt.

Inside, tea was served.

As everyone settled into comfortable conversation, Harshvardhan spoke to Shrutika about her MBA plans.

Her confident answers impressed him.

Shekhar watched proudly.

Meanwhile, Kritika remained unusually quiet.

Not because she was shy—but because her attention kept drifting toward the sleeping baby.

Every now and then, she stole another glance.

Lunch was finally announced.

The dining table was filled with an elaborate spread—soft rotis, dal tadka, paneer, jeera rice, pahadi delicacies, fresh raita, and of course, kheer.

Rupali’s eyes widened dramatically.

"Bap re itna sara khana?"

Everyone laughed.

Savitri shot her daughter a warning look.

Rupali immediately straightened.

"Mera matlab... dekh kar hi muh mein paani aa raha hai.""

Shrutika burst into laughter.

"Didi, koi baat nahi .mera bhi wahi haal hai."

The room echoed with cheerful laughter.

And each time, her smile deepened.

Later, when everyone sat for lunch, Ruhi woke up and began crying loudly in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Nahi nahi, meri pari... Dadi yahin hai," Savitri soothed her.

But the little girl kept whimpering.

Sharmistha suggested gently, "Shayad nayi jagah dekh kar pareshaan ho gayi hai. Thoda bahar le jao toh shant ho jayegi."

"I’ll take her," Rupali said.

Shekhar turned to Kritika.

"Kritu beta, Rupali aur Roohi ko upar terrace le jao."

"Ji, Papa."

The terrace was beautiful, with a small garden and a breathtaking view of the Beas River.

Ruhi still clung to Rupali’s shoulder.

Kritika stepped closer.

"Kya main ise chup kara sakti hoon?"

Rupali smiled.

"Try kar sakti ho. Waise yeh jaldi kisi se ghulti nahi."

Kritika leaned forward.

"Hii baby..."

Ruhi peeked shyly.

"Mere paas aaogi?"

The little girl hid her face.

Kritika pouted dramatically.

"Kya main aapko achhi nahi lagi?"

Ruhi quickly shook her head and slowly stretched her tiny arms toward her.

Kritika took her gently into her embrace and kissed her forehead.

"Toh main achhi lagi?"

Ruhi nodded.

"Aur aap bhi mujhe bahut achhi lagi."

The little girl giggled.

"Aapka naam kya hai?"

"Luhanika Vedant Rana," she replied proudly.

Kritika laughed softly.

"Ruhanika Vedant Rana. Bahut pyara naam hai"

Ruhi nodded vigorously.

Soon, Kritika showed her the flowers and plants around the terrace.

Ruhi’s mood lifted instantly.

She plucked a flower and kissed Kritika’s cheek.

"Thanku."

Kritika laughed.

"You’re welcome, baby."

Rupali watched the scene in amazement.

"Aapne ye kaise kiya?"

Kritika smiled.

"Mujhe bachche bahut pasand hain. Gurukul mein bhi chhote bachche aate hain."

Rupali looked at her thoughtfully.

"Woh toh dikh raha hai."

Back downstairs, everyone looked relieved seeing Ruhi laughing happily.

When Kritika tried to hand her back, Ruhi tightened her little arms around her neck.

"No."

Harshvardhan and Savitri exchanged surprised glances.

Rupali laughed.

"Lagta hai humari Ruhi ko Kritika pasand aa gayi."

Shrutika giggled.

"Kittu Di ke fan club mein ek aur member add ho gaya."

When it was time to feed Ruhi, Savitri prepared her cereal.

But the little girl pouted.

"No... Loohi ko ye aul nahi khana."

Kritika smiled.

"Toh Ruhi kya khayegi?"

"Chips."

Everyone laughed.

"Chips abhi nahi. Lekin kheer hai. Maine khud banayi hai."

Ruhi thought for a moment, then nodded.

When Kritika fed her the kheer, she ate happily.

Rupali looked surprised.

"Ye alag kyun rakha tha?"

Sharmistha smiled proudly.

"Kritu ne socha tha dry fruits gale mein atak sakte hain."

When Harshvardhan learned why Kritika had kept it aside, he looked genuinely impressed.

"Itni choti si baat ka bhi dhyan rakha tumne."

Kritika smiled modestly.

"Chhote bachchon ka thoda extra dhyan rakhna padta hai."

Savitri looked at her thoughtfully.

There was something quietly special about this girl.

A natural tenderness.

Something that couldn’t be taught.

And as little Ruhi rested her head against Kritika’s shoulder, sleepily clutching her dupat

ta, no one realized that this simple afternoon was quietly becoming the beginning of a bond that would one day change all their lives forever.