Her fingers itched with an irresistible desire to hurl the ring directly onto Rukhsana Chachi's face, but she suppressed the urge. The intensity of her emotions could be felt in her gaze, as her eyes burned with indignation and frustration. The entire family stood beside her Chachi, apathetic to the abuse they had witnessed, their hearts tarnished by their complicity. In that moment, she comprehended why her father had kept her distanced from them all her life. She had encountered them at weddings, but never set foot in their home—a sanctuary her father had diligently shielded her from. He had poured his financial support into their lives, yet they had the audacity to label him a liar, dismissing their engagement as a mere façade.

However, amidst the chaos of her emotions, a vivid memory resurfaced, etched with crystal clarity. Mukhtar Khan's visit from years ago played like a scene before her eyes. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her head, his expression tinged with regret. He had delicately slid the ring onto her finger, and her innocent, curious voice had filled the air. "Abraar kyun nahi aaye aapke saath? (Why didn't Abraar come along?)" she had naively questioned, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. As a child, she had always yearned to meet him, to know him. Mukhtar Khan had placed his hand on her head and promised to bring him along the following week. "Agli baar launga usse, (I will bring him next time)" he had declared, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that lingered in her heart. Little did she know, it would be his final visit.

Miraal, engulfed by a whirlwind of emotions, found herself unable to stand. She sank to the floor, her body draped in sorrow, tears streaming down her face. Her heartache emanated from every inch of her being, as the realization hit her like a tidal wave—her father's cautionary words had been true. The world, though adorned with beauty on the surface, concealed thorns that could pierce deeply when one ventured too close.

In the depths of her wounds, Miraal experienced a profound sense of loneliness. For the first time, she tasted the bitter flavor of true isolation. Her fingers gently traced the contours of the unwanted ring, its presence a grotesque symbol of her violation. Amidst her tears, she observed the cut on her finger, the shape of the diamond ring imprinted on her skin. She brought her hand to her chest, seeking solace for her bleeding heart. A glimmer of desperation mingled with hysteria possessed her as she cast the ring out of the window, severing the chains that bound her.

A gentle hand caressed her forehead, startling her from her anguish. She turned to find Zubiya, her tear-filled eyes reflecting a profound empathy. Their expressions mirrored a shared pain, a profound understanding of each other's struggles. They embraced tightly, finding solace in their shared grief. Zubiya's voice trembled as she uttered her words, the depth of her emotions resonating in her voice, "Ye aansu Baba ke liye hain ya anghoti ke liye?" (Are these tears for Baba or for the ring?)

Miraal blinked, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, as she comprehended Zubiya's words. She mustered the strength to respond, her voice infused with raw emotion, "Baba ke liye, iss zabardasti ke liye. Zubiya, marr jaungi magar is nikkah mein shaamil nahi hongi" (For Baba, for the coercion. Zubiya, I would rather die than be a part of this marriage). Her words were laced with defiance and despair, as she crumbled under the weight of her circumstances. The intensity of their expressions conveyed their shared sense of hopelessness and the immense price they would pay if they succumbed to the demands of their oppressors.

"Miraal, bhaag jao... Ye log tumhara nikkah kal hi karne ka plan kar rahe hain (Miraal you should runaway... They are planning to set the nikkah tomorrow itself)" Zubiya pleaded, her voice filled with urgency. She held Miraal tightly, her touch both comforting and protective, as she tenderly caressed Miraal's swollen fingers.

The flames of hatred consumed Miraal, overpowering her senses, as if a dormant fire had been ignited within her. She stood before the mirror, her reflection unrecognizable. The once radiant and hopeful girl had transformed into a shadow of her former self—an unloved girl, shrouded in pain and anguish. Bitter tears cascaded down her cheeks, her hand instinctively covering her mouth, as she grappled with the loss of control that had plagued her life since entering this oppressive household. The realization that her own blood relations were driven solely by greed and avarice left her hollow, her soul aching for the love and support she so desperately craved.

Gazing at her tear-streaked reflection, Miraal shook her head, defiant and resolute. She refused to allow these people to define her or dictate her destiny any longer. Determination flickered in her eyes, a fire burning within her soul.

"Zubiya, main kahan bhaag kar jaungi? (Zubiya, where would I run off to?) " she questioned, her voice tinged with vulnerability. Having led a sheltered life, she was aware of the dangers that awaited her as a woman in the outside world. To escape in the dead of night risked not only her honor but also her life.

"Kal Abraar Khan sheher aayenge (Tomorrow Abraar Khan will be coming to the city)," Zubiya revealed, her eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. She clung to the belief that this news would alleviate Miraal's distress, that perhaps Abraar would rescue her from this living nightmare. The mere mention of his name brought a flicker of hope to Miraal's eyes, as she dared to imagine her favorite fairy tale unfolding before her eyes.

"Kyun? (Why?)" Miraal inquired, her curiosity piqued. She had never heard of his impending visit to the city. "Unke Baba ki barsi hai kal" Zubiya explained, her voice filled with a mixture of comfort and anticipation, her hand resting gently on Miraal's shoulder. "Tumhe ek baar koshish karni chahiye" (It's his father's death anniversary tomorrow. You should make one last attempt).

"Aur kya bolungi? Kya baat karungi? Main toh haar gayi hoon, bas ek anghoti thi jisko dekh kar lagta tha ki main unki mangetar hoon. Warna na ek jhalak dekhi hai aur na koi baat ki hai unse (And what would I say? How would I approach him? I have already surrendered, that ring that once deceived me into believing I was his betrothed. I haven't caught a glimpse of him, never engaging in conversation)" Miraal whispered solemnly, her voice filled with a tinge of resignation. There was a sense of self-respect that prevented her from seeking help. She refused to diminish herself by pleading or compromising her dignity.

Zubiya remained silent, enveloping her in a warm and understanding embrace. The unspoken words between them conveyed a bond forged through shared pain and an unbreakable spirit.