My entire world tilted.
"What? What happened to Dadi?"
"I found her this morning. She had fallen in the bathroom. There was so much blood, Armaan. So much blood."
I was already on my feet, grabbing my coat from the desk, my phone pressed against my ear.
"Why did you not call me immediately?"
"I do not have your number." She was crying openly now, her words coming out in broken gasps. "Mamta ji and Ramesh uncle were not home. I did not know what to do. I just called an ambulance and brought her here. Please come. Please. I am at City Hospital."
"I am on my way. Stay with her. I will be there as soon as I can."
I ended the call and ran out of my office. Meera looked up in alarm as I rushed past her desk.
"Sir, is everything alright?"
"Cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day. Family emergency."
I did not wait for her response. I was already at the elevator, jabbing the button repeatedly as though that would make it arrive faster.
The ride down to the ground floor felt interminable. When the doors finally opened, I ran through the lobby, ignoring the surprised looks from employees and security guards.
Ramesh was in the parking garage, wiping down one of the company cars. He looked up in surprise when he saw me running toward him.
"Sir?"
"City Hospital. Now. As fast as you can."
He did not ask questions. He just got into the driver's seat, and I threw myself into the back. The engine roared to life, and we pulled out of the garage with a squeal of tires.
The drive to the hospital was a blur. Ramesh navigated through traffic with practiced efficiency, but every red light felt like a personal insult. Every slow driver was an obstacle I wanted to physically remove from the road.
Dadi. My grandmother. The woman who had raised me. The only parent I had ever really known.
Please let her be okay. Please.
I did not pray often. I did not believe in much beyond what I could see and measure and control. But in that moment, I prayed to every god I could think of.
Please let her be okay.
We reached the hospital in what Ramesh later told me was twenty minutes, though it felt like a lifetime. I was out of the car before it had fully stopped, running through the automatic doors into the bright, sterile lobby.
The receptionist looked up as I approached, startled by my disheveled appearance and wild expression.
"Kalyani Khanna," I said, my voice coming out harsh and breathless. "Where is she?"
The receptionist typed quickly on her computer.
"She is in the ICU, sir. Third floor. But visiting hours—"
I did not wait to hear the rest. I ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time, my heart pounding in my ears.
When I burst through the doors onto the third floor, I saw Mamta immediately. She was standing outside a set of double doors marked ICU, her face pale and worried.
"Mamta!" I called out, rushing toward her. "How is Dadi? What happened?"
Mamta turned to me, relief flooding her features when she saw me.
