•| THREE |•
The car was only seconds away from impact.
The screech of brakes tore through the air, sharp and violent, rubber burning against the road as the driver tried desperately to stop. The sound seemed to freeze the entire moment—people turning, voices rising, everything slowing into terrifying clarity.
Kiaan stood there, tiny and unaware, his attention still half on the cat… half on his grandmother screaming his name.
And then—
Suddenly, a figure rushed forward from the side.
Quick. Instinctive. Fearless.
A pair of hands grabbed Kiaan firmly by his arms, pulling him back with sudden force just as the speeding car whooshed past the exact spot where he had been standing a heartbeat ago.
The wind from the passing vehicle ruffled his hair.
But he was no longer in its path.
The stranger had already lifted him into her arms, holding him tightly against her chest as though shielding him from the world itself.
Mrs. Mehra reached them seconds later, breathless, shaken to her core. Her heart was still racing violently as she took in the sight of her grandson—safe… alive… unharmed.
A deep, trembling sigh of relief escaped her lips, her hand flying to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing.
“You okay, kid?” the girl asked softly, her voice warm despite the adrenaline still rushing through her veins.
She loosened the protective hug slightly so she could look at him properly.
Kiaan blinked up at her, still processing what had just happened. His small fingers clutched the fabric of her kurti unconsciously before he nodded slowly.
“T… thank you,” he stammered, his voice tiny but sincere.
Then—because he was still a child, still innocent—he smiled.
A bright, grateful smile as he looked at her face… noticing how pretty she was, how kind her eyes looked even after the fright.
By then, Mrs. Mehra had reached them fully.
She placed a trembling hand on Kiaan’s back first, as if reassuring herself he was truly there, before looking up at the girl with overwhelming gratitude in her eyes.
“Thank you so much, miss,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t…”
Her words trailed off, unable to finish the horrifying sentence.
She folded her hands slightly in instinctive thanks, still shaken.
The girl, however, immediately shook her head, embarrassed by the gesture.
“It’s okay… please don’t thank me like that,” she said gently, adjusting Kiaan more comfortably in her arms before carefully setting him back down on the pavement.
“It’s completely fine… please take care of him,” the girl said gently, her voice still carrying the softness of someone who acted out of instinct rather than heroism.
Mrs. Mehra looked at her for a long moment—really looked at her this time, now that the panic had settled.
The girl stood there slightly out of breath, strands of hair loose around her face from the rush, her simple college attire neat but modest. There was nothing extravagant about her appearance, yet something about her presence felt… warm. Grounded. Sincere.
“What’s your name, dear?” Mrs. Mehra asked, her tone affectionate, curiosity laced with gratitude.
The girl straightened slightly, offering a polite smile.
“Oh… I’m Samira. Samira Nair,” you said, your voice bright despite the fading adrenaline.
For a brief second, Mrs. Mehra didn’t respond.
She was simply staring at you.
Not in rudeness—but in quiet assessment. As though trying to read something deeper than what appeared on the surface. There was kindness in your eyes… humility in your posture… strength hidden beneath gentleness.
Before she could say more, you glanced at the time on your wristwatch, your expression shifting into mild alarm.
“Ohh—I’m getting late. I should leave,” you said quickly, stepping back. “Please take care of yourself… and him.”
With one last polite smile, you turned and hurried down the street, your figure gradually blending into the morning crowd—unaware of the impression you had just left behind.
Mrs. Mehra watched you go, eyes thoughtful… lips curved faintly.
“Such a pretty child…” she murmured under her breath.
Her gaze then dropped to Kiaan, who was clutching her saree pallu tightly now that the fear had returned in waves.
“I told you to stay inside the car, right?” she said, her voice firm but not harsh.
Kiaan’s head lowered instantly, guilt flooding his tiny features.
“I was so scared…” he whispered, voice trembling—not from the scolding, but from the delayed realization of what could have happened.
Mrs. Mehra’s expression softened immediately.
“Oh, my baby…” she said, pulling him into a tight embrace, pressing his head protectively against her shoulder. “It’s okay… you’re safe.”
“Granny…” he mumbled against her.
“Hm?” she hummed, stroking his hair.
Kiaan pulled back slightly, his fear momentarily replaced by innocent curiosity.
“Isn’t that pretty lady perfect for Dad?”
The question was so sudden… so unexpected… that Mrs. Mehra blinked in surprise before a slow, delighted smile spread across her face.
“She is,” she said without hesitation, eyes gleaming with sudden thought.
An idea—bold and immediate—had already begun forming in her mind.
She gently broke the hug, helping Kiaan back into the car before pulling out her phone.
Dialing a number she knew by memory, she waited only a second before the call connected.
“Oh, Mr. Patel… I need your help,” she said, her tone lowering into quiet determination.
She ended the call shortly after, satisfaction evident in her expression as she settled back into the seat beside Kiaan.
The driver resumed arrangements for the car, unaware that something far more significant had just been set into motion.
Some time later, her phone buzzed again.
Mrs. Mehra opened the message—and there it was.
Your information. Your background. Your address. Your university details.
She adjusted her glasses, carefully scrolling through your file, a pleased smile slowly forming on her lips.
“I’ll meet them today,” she murmured to herself, glancing once more at your photograph.
Beside her, Kiaan leaned curiously against her arm, unaware that his innocent roadside question had just sparked a plan that might soon change not just his father’s life…
…but yours too.