Page 139 of The Defiant Wife

She is the one who gives my life its color.

EPILOGUE

OURS

DIYA

The final adoption papers rest in my lap, the fresh court seals cool beneath my fingertips.

Even now, I find myself reading the names again and again, as if I'm afraid they'll disappear if I look away for too long.

A year ago, walking into a courtroom filled me with fear. Everything felt cold and uncertain, like someone else was deciding whether I deserved happiness.

Today, these papers don't feel frightening.

They feel like home.

For most of my life, family was just another word for obligation. My father treated love like a transaction, and the orphanage taught me not to expect people to stay.

But now . . . I look through the tall glass windows of the palace sunroom, and my heart feels so full that it almost hurts.

Outside, the palace lawns are anything but peaceful.

Rani has somehow convinced everyone that they're playing a game called Protect the Kingdom. She's shouting instructions at the top of her lungs while Keshav insists he's the commander of the western gate. Laila keeps changing the rules every five minutes just to annoy him.

Raj runs after them, laughing silently, his hands moving so quickly through sign language that even Rani has to stop and ask him what he just said.

A second later all four children burst into laughter.

The sound reaches all the way inside.

A year ago they were children waiting for donations and temporary shelters.

Today . . . They're home.

Legally.

Permanently.

They're Shekhawats.

I don't even realize I've started crying until someone gently takes the papers from my hands.

"I've been watching you read the same page for the last ten minutes."

That deep, familiar voice makes me smile before I even look up.

Veeraj settles beside me on the sofa, still dressed in his rolled-up shirt sleeves after returning from court. He places the adoption papers carefully on the table before taking my hand.

His fingers slide between mine so naturally that I don't even think about it anymore.

"You've gone very quiet," he says softly.

"I know."

He studies my face for a moment. "Too many thoughts?"

I let out a shaky laugh. "So many."