Sneha hummed softly to herself as she climbed the stairs to her room, her college bag slung over one shoulder. At 21, she was in her final year of business studies, a bright, innocent girl with long black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall, wide doe-like eyes, and a slender figure that turned heads on campus. She lived with her elder brother, Rohan, in their spacious family home on the outskirts of the city. Their parents had passed away years ago in a car accident, leaving Rohan, who was 28 and a successful software engineer, as the sole guardian. He was protective—sometimes overly so—but Sneha adored him. He was her rock, her family.

"Di, aaj college kaise gaya?" (Sister, how was college today?) Rohan asked from the kitchen as she entered, his deep voice warm and caring. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and a commanding presence that made Sneha feel safe.