The drive back from the Gaurishankar temple was unusually quiet, filled with a peaceful, reflective solace. The playful, boisterous chatter that had filled the luxury SUV earlier in the day had gradually softened into hushed, sleepy conversations, the cold mountain night wrapping around the heavy vehicle like a thick, protective blanket. The powerful headlights cut cleanly through the dense, misty roads as soft instrumental music played faintly in the background, anchoring the serene atmosphere inside the cabin.

Ruhi, completely exhausted after an entire day of relentless excitement, temple visits, endless running around the picturesque slopes, and her own dramatic, non-stop storytelling, had fallen fast asleep in Kritika's lap. Her tiny, soft fingers were still curled tightly around the edge of Kritika's delicate saree *pallu*, refusing to let go even in her dreams. Her little face rested peacefully against Kritika's chest, her soft, rhythmic breaths warm and comforting against her skin.