The night air outside was cool and still, but inside Rudra’s bedroom, the atmosphere was charged — thick with anticipation, heavy with years of quiet yearning finally coming to the surface.
From somewhere nearby, the soft, familiar melody played quietly, wrapping around them like a tender invitation:
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Each story I write is a quiet labor of love — built word by word, heart to heart. Your support not only honors the effort behind every chapter but also empowers me to create more deeply, more often. If my writing has lingered in your thoughts, moved your heart, or brought you joy, consider becoming a part of this journey. Every contribution is a silent applause that helps the next story come to life.
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