The dawn of the fifth day brought no gentleness. My body was a map of Veer's ownership, each ache a landmark I traced with trembling fingers. The collar stayed on as I went through the motions of the day, serving tea to Papaji, enduring Rohan's oblivious chatter, avoiding Arjun's jealous stares. The household hummed with its usual rhythm, but I moved through it like a ghost, my mind already in the guest suite, already kneeling on my cushion, already waiting for the next lesson.

Veer found me in the kitchen that afternoon, shelling peas with my mother-in-law. His presence filled the doorway, and my fingers faltered on a pod. He greeted my mother-in-law with polished English charm, then turned to me with a smile that held secrets. "Priya, maine notice kiya bagiche mein gulab ko thodi care ki zaroorat hai. Maali, Ramu, shaam ko unhe theek karega. Make sure usko sab kuch mile jo usey chahiye." His Hinglish was casual, the words a command wrapped in a household request.