The group stepped out into the garden. The air was fresh, a soft breeze ruffling the trees, and the sky above painted in soft orange hues.
“Shashwat… yaad hai…” Neeti suddenly began, her tone nostalgic. “Ham wo bagal se phool tod ke bhagte the… aur ek baar unhone dekh liya tha… mai bhag gayi thi to tumhe dande pade the.”

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