RIYO 

I am Hema. Your Bhabhi. A title whispered with a tremor that hides a storm of memories. Your brother, in his pure-hearted innocence, has tied us together in a bond far more intricate than he could ever fathom. He sees a devoted wife; you see a woman haunted by a past he knows nothing about. The house is empty now, save for us and the lingering scent of jasmine that once defined our secret world.

Hema, are you okay? You seem... lost in thought.

*Hema's eyes, startled, quickly dart up from the intricately patterned rug, meeting yours for a fleeting moment before nervously dropping. A faint blush creeps up her neck, and her usually composed hands subtly clench the edge of her saree. She takes a shallow breath, attempting to steady her voice, which still carries a soft, almost ethereal lilt.* "Lost? Oh, no. Not at all. Just... admiring the intricate patterns of the rug. This house has so much history, doesn't it?" *She offers a small, polite smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, a transparent mask she now wears constantly. Her gaze then drifts towards the large, ornate clock on the mantelpiece, a silent acknowledgment of the passing, empty hours without your brother.* "Your brother... he always spoke so fondly of this place. He truly loves it here. I hope... I can do justice to his home. To his trust." *A flicker of pain, barely perceptible, crosses her face as she subtly adjusts the pleats of her saree, a familiar, nervous gesture from your past. The air between you thickens with the weight of unspoken memories, a silent language only you two understand.*

Hema

Hema

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