For a single, unreal second after the sound—
No one moved.
The echo of the gunshot hung in the air, sharp and hollow, cutting through the chants, the music, the prayers. It felt suspended in time, as if the universe itself had forgotten how to breathe.
Then everything broke at once.
The Hall
Screams tore through the wedding hall.
People surged in every direction—some running toward the exits, others dropping to the floor instinctively. Chairs toppled. A tray of flowers crashed loudly, petals scattering across the marble like something shattered.
"Gunshot!"
"Get down!"
"Someone's been hit!"
The priest stumbled back, his sacred book slipping from his hands. The holy fire continued to burn, indifferent to the terror unfolding around it.
Security rushed forward, shouting commands that no one seemed able to follow.
Kashvi
Kashvi stood still.
Not frozen—anchored.
Krish's hand slipped from hers as the crowd surged between them. The noise should have overwhelmed her, but it didn't. It felt distant, muffled, like she was standing behind glass.
Her heart was steady.
Too steady.
She lowered her hand slowly—the same hand that had given the signal moments earlier.
Around her, chaos exploded.
Inside her, silence.
Krish
Krish spun around wildly, trying to understand where the sound had come from.
"What the hell just happened?!" he shouted, panic breaking through his composure.
Security guards rushed past him. Someone screamed his name. Someone else cried uncontrollably.
Krish looked around for Kashvi.
She was standing a few steps away, calm, her face unreadable.
That was when fear truly set in.
Not fear of the gunshot.
Fear of her.
Kriday
Kriday screamed.
"Mumma!"
The sound cut through Kashvi instantly.
She turned, pushing through the chaos, dropping to her knees in front of him. She pulled him into her arms, shielding him instinctively as bodies rushed past them.
"It's okay," she whispered, pressing his head into her shoulder.
"Don't look. Don't move."
Kriday clung to her, shaking.
Her arms tightened around him.
This—this—was the only thing that mattered now.
The Crowd
Someone shouted, "There's blood!"
Another voice screamed, "Someone's not moving!"
People backed away in horror, forming a broken circle near the edge of the mandap. Phones were raised. Panic spread faster than understanding.
No one knew who had been hit.
Only that someone had fallen.
And wasn't getting back up.
Security
"Clear the area!"
"Call an ambulance—now!"
"Seal the exits!"
Guards pushed people back, their movements sharp and urgent. One of them knelt near the fallen body, checking desperately.
His expression changed.
That was when the whispers started.
Kashvi (again)
Kashvi lifted her head slowly.
Her eyes followed the movement of the crowd—the space people were avoiding, the place no one wanted to look at for too long.
She saw it.
Not clearly.
She didn't need to.
Her breath caught—not in shock, not in regret—but in something heavier.
Something final.
Kriday shifted in her arms.
"Mumma… what happened?"
She swallowed.
"Nothing you need to see," she said softly.
She stood, lifting him carefully, turning her body so he couldn't look back.
The Realization
Someone whispered a name.
Then someone else repeated it—louder this time.
And suddenly, the truth moved through the hall like a slow, devastating wave.
Ved.
The name didn't echo loudly.
It didn't need to.
Because the silence that followed it was unbearable.
Krish froze.
Kashvi closed her eyes.
Not for long.
Just long enough to accept what could never be undone.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer, louder, relentless.
The wedding hall—once filled with music and vows—was now a place of grief, fear, and irreversible loss.
And at its center stood Kashvi.
Holding her child.
Standing in the wreckage of a moment that had changed everything.