"I asked a question, Dhanya," George said, stepping closer, his dry umbrella a stark contrast to Rishi’s drenched state. "Who is he? And why is he calling your name like he owns the place?"

  Out here by the old house, George sounded different. His usual friendly tone gone cold. The dim light carved deeper lines into his face, like something inside him shifted. Maybe it wasn’t about knowing Rishi at all. More about how Rishi stood too close, eyes fixed on me. That kind of gaze speaks before words ever start.

  Even drenched and worn out, Rishi held his ground. A small drip clung to his nose before he brushed it away, shifting upright. “School friends stick together,” he said. Not the owner of the house - never claimed to be - but sharp enough to spot questioning that crossed the line

  "Friend from Punjab?" George laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "You travelled two thousand kilometres just to 'warn' her about some school drama? Or did you just want an excuse to see her in a half-saree?"

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  Hold on, George! I snapped, glancing sharp at the house behind us.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall as Shwetha's voice rose, that tale of the oversized amphibian spiraling into frantic peaks. Papa would catch on any moment now - his confusion about to snap into clarity.

  "Rishi, you have to leave. Now," I whispered, my voice trembling. "If my father sees you, everything is over. He won't ask questions; he’ll just act."

  The heavy wood gate stood before Rishi, its weight obvious in the way it hung on old iron hinges. He turned toward me, his smile crooked but uncertain this time. A pause came between us, filled only by wind through the palms. Then he said he’d be leaving soon. Not right away, yet not far either. His voice dipped low when mentioning the Gargoyles - those figures we thought stayed beyond Punjab’s borders. Trust, he added quietly, is something to measure carefully now

  A glare fixed on George, then away - heels biting into wet earth as he moved toward the drive’s edge. The storm hammered down; that bent umbrella offered nothing. Rain ruled everything.