#3 ~FF: Untold Stories~ - Page 54

Originally posted by: 1ishveerian

Hey dear LM!

The interlude was a superb one,

Amba's character here seemed amazing 😳 ,

There separation at the station, seemed something alarming,

Now waiting for epistles..

Story for late and this much short review...

Keep rocking

Originally posted by: Zenab78

Superb chapter LM ...I a replying very late ...sorry for that...but your are very talented ...awesome

Book 4: The Dusk to a Glorious EraEpistle 61: My Lucky Charm

A/N: Hey there everyone! :D :D Here is the next update! :D :D

Note: I've used a few excerpts from The Kite Runner for the descriptions of the kite flying. :) :)

Happy Reading! :D :D

14th January, 2007:

Finally Makar Sankranti is here! Yay!

Mota Babuji and I have been waiting for this day for so long that it felt as though it was never going to come! Flying kites... learning how to fly! God, I'm giddy with excitement! Like every year, Mota Babuji and I will be competing against each other as to who can fly the kite better. Normally, we'd have Sharman and Devarsh joining us too, but since they cannot take a leave, we'll have to manage with Prateik. The only issue is that his interest is biased for food rather than actually flying the kites.

Baa, like every year, remains officially scandalized at the fact that a servant will compete against his master to win, but well... she's been on and on about this for ten years now and still Mota Babuji doesn't play her heed. Take it from one ear and let it go from the other, he always says. What did I ever do in my previous life to have a mentor like him?

And then there's my Maharani Ishaani. Honestly, that girl comes up with the most epic excuses of not flying kites, it's funny. She's think I'm really gullible that I'll believe everything that she sells to me. I've known from years now that she doesn't like flying kites because she's afraid of the manja. But she's too proud to tell me that, because Ishaani Parekh is "technically" afraid of nothing.

So today, I come to take her with me to the terrace to atleast catch the spooll of the manja, but no... She wants to put up an argument for that also. And if there was anything more to do, she actually gave me a national awareness campaign advertisement as well about how dangerous spools are. God, this girl is a total drama queen! She should have joined telecommunications rather than marketing and finance. If she keeps going like this, she'll go places with her marketing skills.

I'll have to think of some other way to get her up on the terrace. Don't tell her this, but she's my lucky charm. Whenever she's been on the terrace watching me and Mota Babuji compete, I've always flown my best, even though till this date I haven't managed to defeat him. The stats are 10-0 in Mota Babuji's favour, but for the expert he is on this, it's nothing short of an achievement that I've even managed to stay alive long enough in the sky for half the time that our kites have sailed together.

He, like always, is proud of all the efforts that I put into the game. He's the undefeated champion in kite flying for the last twenty-three years, and he says that the day someone cuts his kite, he'll give up on that crown and quit flying, knowing that it was time to pass on the beacon. But he always says that my spirit and sportsmanship is going to take me places in life. If only he'd taught Ishaani to be a better sport... She's so bad at losing, she always asks for a rematch.

Like it was just the other day when we were playing tennis. Three sets. I won fair and square with a 6-4, 6-7 (4-6) and a 6-3, but no! She wants a rematch because she was "sure" that my ace was a fault. Oh, we argued upon it for over half an hour before I angrily did a rematch for the third set. I won again - 6-1. She didn't even let me take her for a drive that night, she was that bad a sport. She's never learnt to take defeat in her stride - she wants what she wants, and she isn't going to rest until she achieves it. That's why we have another tennis match this weekend.

But back to the point (I've become like Ishaani in this context, always going off from the point). I'm definitely going to have to convince her to come on the terrace. She's no support though. She's changes sides between myself and Mota Babuji even faster than a ping pong - whoever's winning, obviously. But still, she's my lucky charm. How can I not have her beside me? Mota Babuji always tells me that every challenge in life becomes easier to face when you have the right person standing beside you, shoulder to shoulder. She's my strength, so she has to be there.

Looks like I'll have to take a leaf out from her book and use it on her now!

And emotional blackmail, it is.

-x-

Didn't I tell you that she is my lucky charm?

See, I won! I WON! Can you believe it? And oh my God, it was the most intense competition that we've had in these eleven years! My hands are still shivering! I don't even know how I'm gripping the pen after all the band-aids on my fingers, but I had to tell you. The impossible has happened. I managed to cut Mota Babuji's kite today, breaking his 23-year old record.

I think I might cry again.

Before I get all incoherent with emotion, I'll quickly tell you what happened, because I need to rush down in another half an hour. Leaving you back here, I ran up to Ishaani's room again, knowing that she'd put up another set of tantrums if I asked her to come give me company on the terrace. So I used my best option at hand - the innocent puppy dog eyes. She says that it's impossible to refuse me for anything when I had those eyes on, and I knew that this was my only shot.

Everything's fair in love and war.

I knelt beside her and took her hand in mine as I widened my eyes just enough to accommodate her gaze, never once over-doing it. I told her how much it would mean if she would come with me to the terrace and would be my moral support, like always. I meant every word of what I said, honestly. Maybe that's why she agreed hesitantly. That's what we both love about each other - honesty. I promised her that she could sit far away from all the manja and support me from there...

But just to be there.

And so with a hesitant Ishaani in tow, I made my way up to the terrace. But the moment I swung open the door, it was a whole different world. Music blasted as the smell of samosas, steamed dhoklas and fried pakoras drifted from rooftops and open doors, our own rooftop being the provider of the same. All the family members sat together, excited and talking in happy whispers. Mota Babuji was selecting a kite for his flight when he saw me.

I quickly ran up to him as he called me towards the stand, looking excited.

"Take your pick."

I fiddled around with the kites just as all the other elders selected one for their own. Baba never flew kites, but he was an excellent aid for the spool. After tinkering for a good five minutes, testing the strength and quality of the wooden spars that made the backbone of the kite, I finally selected a red kite with black borders. It looked chic and it was certainly amongst the best of the lot. Mota Babuji selected a green one with purple borders, his signature kite that was warning enough to everyone that Harshad Parekh had taken his flight.

That kite had been the envy of all the neighbourhood who tried to futilely cut the green vulture out from the air. Nobody could touch it once it was airborne.

Picking up my kite and a spool, I walked back to Baba, who now looked palpably excited. My eyes scanned the terrace for Ishaani, who was sitting away from all the others in the shade, her eyes searching for me as well. The moment she found me, her face relaxed into a small smile as she lifted her thumb up as a good luck wish. I nodded my head nervously, suddenly seized by an urge to run back to my room and hide myself underneath all the blankets I could have access to.

I never had problem with nerves, but today was different.

Baba's face brightened as I handed over the kite to him, and he evaluated the kite the same way that I'd done so just minutes ago. Baba taught me all the tricks of the trade with flying kites back when we lived in our village, and like all of life's ironies, I got better than him. Now all I had to do was beat the best. In my dreams... nobody got to beat Harshad Parekh.

"Good," Baba said, satisfied with my choice.

Smiling at me happily, he lifted our kite after licking his finger and holding it up to test the wind. The spool rolled in my hands as Baba walked away about an indefinite number of feet away until he came to a stop. He held the kite high over his head, like an athlete showing his gold medal. I jerked the string thrice like always, something that Baba and I used as a sort of signal and he tossed the kite.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and pulled on the string. Within a minute, my kite was rocketing to the sky, the sound like a paper bird flapping its wings. Baba whistled and ran back to me as I handed him the spool, holding on to the string. He spun it quickly to roll the loose string back on.

At least two and a half dozen kites already hung in the sky like paper vultures roaming for prey. Within an hour, the number doubled, and practically kites of every colour imaginable glided and spun in the sky, each flying like they were meant to rule. A cold breeze wafted through my hair and it definitely made me shiver, even though I was perspiring with fright. I was definitely twitchy and on high-end anxiety. I knew that I wanted to do the impossible, but I felt too afraid to hope so. Yet there was something about today that was different than the previous years... Was it my guts instinct that things would change forever today?

That's the thing about kite flying - your mind drifted just like the kite.

Getting my mind back to my kite as another wave of winds passed by, I let myself become cool. The wind was perfect for kite flying, blowing just hard enough to give some lift, make the sweeps easier. Next to me, Baba held the spool, his hands already slightly bloodied by the string. Soon, the cutting started and the first of the defeated kites whirled out of control. They fell from the sky like shooting stars with brilliant, rippling tails, showering the neighborhoods below with prizes for the children to collect as souvenirs.

A couple fell upon our terrace and upon the adjacent trees as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ishaani, Disha and Prateik collect the ones that were within reach. By another fifteen minutes, only Mota Babuji and I had our kites intact in the air, waging a courageous battles against the sharks floating around us. So far so good.

But try as I might, I couldn't help stealing glances at Ishaani, who now sat happily with the three colourful kites that she'd collected, looking fairly comfortable now that she was away from the "supposed" danger of the manja. She was engrossed with the battle of kites in the air to notice that I was staring at her. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she cheering for me? Or did a part of her think that I'd fail to cut her father's kite, like always?

They were coming down all over the place now, the kites, and I was still flying. I was still flying. My eyes kept wandering over to Mota Babuji, who'd chosen the same moment to look at me. Was he surprised I had lasted as long as I had? 'You don't keep your eyes to the sky, you won't last much longer,' he'd taught me the first time I'd competed against him.

I snapped my gaze back to the sky. A blue kite was closing in on me I'd caught it just in time. I tangled a bit with it, and ended up besting him when he became impatient and tried to cut me from below. I could hear angry shrieks from the opposite terrace and I knew where that kite came from. Baba yelled 'kai po che!' along with the others, but I didn't let that distract me. I had only one kite to yell that for, if I was lucky.

Within another hour, the number of surviving kites dwindled from maybe fifty to a dozen. I was one of them. I'd made it to the last dozen. The music fell upon deaf ears as the air got tense, knowing that the best was yet to come now that the competition had grown so fierce. The biggest prize of all was still flying. I sliced a bright pink kite with a coiled white tail. It cost me another gash on the index finger and blood trickled down into my palm. I made Baba hold the string and sucked the blood dry, blotting my finger against my jeans.

I knew this part of the competition would take a while, because the guys who had lasted this long were skilled enough to not fall into simple traps like the old lift and dive, Baba's favorite trick. By three o'clock that afternoon, tufts of clouds had drifted in and the sun had slipped behind them. Shadows started to lengthen. The spectators on the roofs grew quieter as the wait became tedious.

We were down to nine kites and I was still flying. My legs ached and my neck was stiff. But with each defeated kite, hope grew in my heart like the breaking of the rays after a storm, one ray at a time. My eyes kept returning to the green kite that had been wreaking havoc like always.

"How many has he cut?" I asked Baba, and he understood who I was referring to.

"I counted fourteen."

"Do you know who do the other four belong to?"

Baba clicked his tongue and shook his head. That was a trademark Baba gesture, meaning he had no idea. The green kite sliced a big purple one and swept twice in big loops. Ten minutes later, he'd cut another two, sending new shrieks of disappointment and 'kai po ches' simultaneously.

After another thirty minutes, only four kites remained. And I was still flying. It seemed I could hardly make a wrong move, as if every gust of wind blew in my favor. I'd never felt so in command, so lucky. It felt intoxicating. I didn't dare look up to the roof. Didn't dare take my eyes off the sky. I had to concentrate, play it smart. Another fifteen minutes and what had seemed like a laughable dream that morning had suddenly become reality: It was just me and Mota Babuji. The green kite.

The tension in the air was as taut as the glass string I was tugging with my bloody hands. People were stomping their feet, clapping, whistling, chanting from all over the other terraces, urging my red kite to do what hadn't been done before. Oh, it was as though they were egging me on it, but I couldn't get distracted. Not when I was this close. This was the first time I'd lasted till the end. And now that I'd come this far, I was only going to walk away by crossing the finish line first.

"Cut him! Cut him!" came the booms from several of the rooftops where the spectators now cheered in waves, sometimes high-pitched and resonant, something quiet with bated breaths.

I suddenly inhaled a familiar scent of vanilla and roses and I realized that Ishaani now stood right beside me. She'd left her fear of manjas just to support me in the last leg. Oh, I was touched, but I couldn't let that distract me now.All I heard, all I willed myself to hear was the thudding of blood in my head. All I saw was the green kite. All I smelled was victory.

If there was truly a God, then He'd let me win. This was my one chance to become someone who was looked at, not upon. If there was a God, He'd guide the winds, let them blow for me so that, with a tug of my string, I'd cut loose my pain, my longing. My fingers had blood dripping from several places and every second was another self-infliction of pain. I'd endured too much... come too far to give up now.

And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when.

It turned out to be sooner than later. A gust of wind lifted my kite and I took advantage. Fed the string, pulled up. Looped my kite on top of the green one. I held position. Mota Babuji knew that his kite was in trouble. He tried desperately to maneuver out of the jam, but I didn't let go. I held position. The crowd sensed the end was at hand. The chorus of "Cut him! Cut him!" grew louder, like Romans chanting for the gladiators to kill, kill!

"You're almost there, Ranveer! Almost there!" screamed Ishaani, sounding demented in anticipation.

And then the moment came. I closed my eyes and loosened my grip on the string. It sliced my fingers again as the wind dragged it. And then... I didn't need to hear the crowd's roar to know. I didn't need to see either. Baba was screaming and his arm was wrapped around my neck.

"You did it! YOU DID IT!"

I opened my eyes and saw the green kite spinning wildly like a tire come loose from a speeding car. I blinked, trying to say something but it was as though I'd lost my voice. Nothing came out. Suddenly I was hovering, looking down on myself from above. Pink shirt, faded jeans. A thin boy, normal complexioned, and a proud 6'1 for his twenty years of age. He had narrow shoulders and a hint of dark circles around his pale chocolate eyes. The breeze rustled his dark brown hair. He looked up to me and we smiled at each other.

Then I was screaming, and everything was color and sound, everything was alive and good. I was throwing my free arm around Ishaani and we were hopping up and down, both of us laughing, both of us weeping.

"You won, Ranveer! You won!" shrieked Ishaani as we both kept wiping the tears off from each other's face stupidly.

And even though it felt like hours, it wasn't even more than a couple of minutes. But before I could even find my voice, I felt someone tap my shoulder and I turned around. Mota Babuji stood in front of me, a very strange fire dancing in his eyes. Oh, I was pounded by a mixture of pride and fright - pride for beating him and breaking a 23-year old record, and fright because I'd done it. I was afraid that he would be angry at me, even though I knew he wouldn't.

I'm stupid that way. He's not only my mentor and a father-figure, but my master as well. That's something I do have to keep reminding myself at times. It's better to remember it this way than when the world decides to remind you of the same. I've got the skin of a frog, but it doesn't mean I don't get hurt.

But as I took the courage to look into his eyes, I could only see the tears of pride and love in them as he pulled me into his arms, an embrace warmer than the most pleasant of summers. Both of our hands were bleeding messily, but everything could wait. The crown had been passed over from the teacher to his student. The bird was learning to fly.

I was learning to fly.

We separated and everyone else came to give me their best wishes (except Baa, ofcourse). It's a surprise she didn't throw me off the terrace. But now that the evening sun had begun its glorious descent, everybody relaxed back considerably. The competition was over. There was anew winner after twenty-three years. Ishaani pulled me and Mota Babuji to the side and cleansed both of out hands of all the blood and wounds. Oh, it stung so hard but the taste of victory was sweet, albeit slightly bloody.

All the three of us had blood marks here and there, but we cherished them as souvenirs of the historic event. Everybody descended back to their respective rooms after having a late lunch, the sun now kissing the horizon in farewell until only Ishaani and I remained seated upon the terrace wall, staring ahead at the dusk with a euphoria that we both hadn't felt in a long, long time.

We were both silent because victory still roared in approval. Both my hands were neatly bandaged, something that I stared at with reverence. This was the first time I felt what it felt like to do the impossible. It was a strangely satiating expression, to know that you've done something that couldn't be done, yet there was something very peaceful about it. The fire to do more grew powerful, but never once consumed me. It was the fire to see the same pride in Mota Babuji's eyes that I saw today, and the same love I saw in Ishaani's eyes for myself. Even the same approval and affection I saw in Falguni Maa's eyes.

Even the amalgamation of all the same emotions that I want to see for myself in Maa and Baba's eyes.

Ishaani gently put her head and nestled it in the crevice of my shoulder as she sighed tiredly. I could feel my body ache now that the adrenaline from earlier had worn off. It was a surprise that I hadn't collapsed still. I let my head fall upon hers tiredly as we both watched the sun set, the distant view of the beach making the sunset even more precious. We knew that we had to head back to our rooms and get ready for the fireworks that would start in some time. The party was still pending, along with a gift that Mota Babuji promised to give me for my feat. Yet the tranquility of the moment was something neither of us could give up. If success tastes like this, then this is what I want in life.

To be at the top with Ishaani by my side as my lucky charm.

Ishaani gently lifted her head and gave me a benign smile that I only returned too eagerly, the joy in my heart identical to the one I felt years ago when I'd broken free of my bonds for the first time with Love back at the cliff. Oh, this was the beginning of a new era... A new set of accomplishments, milestones and legacies to be pursued and achieved. This was the opening at the close. The beginning of the end.

It was the dusk to a glorious era.

Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D

Next chapter:
Epistle 62

So ,I am the first to comment here

Hey LM... 😊 😊

How much I wish to say that plz continue in present but I know we have to wait.. but to quote urself from ur another masterpiece, painful wait only makes the moment more tantalizing...😉 we are patiently here n njoyig each phase... 😃

So four interludes...

Begining from Ishaani first... some serious planning is going on.. auction and then switching of paintings... well mystery for me... actually this painting itself became a mystery yar... at end of 10th interlude also it was present but m still not clear about it...😕but good suspense is building up and also eager to see Chirag's involvement in this.. but in between all this the main thing is her reservation for an extra seat... smart girl... maintained her focus at the right place... 😆 😆

talking about enigma.. she wanted to blame him for it... but she knew he was just d writer, driving force behind was she herself... but how it landed to Chirag is again a mystery...😕 did he knew about it.. if yes then how... if he didn't knew about it then also how he got it... if he found it coincidentally then again what he was doing below the mattress...😆 will wait for clarification.. good thing was at d end, she realised the truth... she's just tired n need solace now.. and in spite of various confusion her conclusion was perfect... "The kind of love he had for her is rare... it never dies..." one of my favourite lines... 🤗

Her dream is back.. she dreamt the same thing again but when did she hurt her... she overcame that na so when blade did its job..❓ and finally puneet n rishi know it... zor ka jhtaka for them... special benefits of working with enigma...😆 but d way rishi is behaving, he'll soon turn mad, pressure is continously increasing...🤣 and now they both know it Ishani definitely has more points in her favour... d way u build up both of dem, they are her true well wishers and now when question is about her life, she got the much needed support system..👏 👏

coming to next thing she has another 3 diaries...😲 containing her journey with chirag...😲 that was a surprise for me... but this chirag..🤢 still threatening her n making plan to revenge, not satisfied with the takeover.. he definitely needs more n now he shall prepare for double treat...😉 just waiting for it...

Now coming to our devdas.. well yes, it do suits him so much...😆 firstly talking about serious part, his entire thoughts in the first part of interlude 11 was painful yar...🥺 u wrote it with perfection.. 👏 It was like drowning you along in his pain n u just wish for some healing for him..😔 but just then came Finch... ranveer as I said is devdas, still on with his dard bhari kahani until finch pumped in some air..😆 how easily he made him accept d truth.. bolti band... it was needed otherwise our cry baby to is just like that na... Ishani did this.. Ishani did that.. I hate her.. I'll not succumb to her any more.. I am not ranveer.. I don't care for her but finally at the end MAIN JAB BHI TUMHE DEKHTA HU MUJHE TUMSE PYAR HO JATA HAI... 🤣 🤣 🤣this is truth and he can't change that try as much he can...😆

But he just don't want to feel anything.. even in his convo with Amba.. it was again clear.. he's too much afraid to even think of something that Ishani made him believe is impossible.. he never had her love and she even took away friendship also.. so can't blame him.. there has to be a base for development of hope also and he has none... Amba's words about his happiness n her observations about Ishani did leave a mark upon his min but he don't want to acknowledge it... he is just cold and numb but as the saying goes 'to melt in its own water is the destiny of ice' he'll also have to melt but Ishani seriously has a very tough task ahead..😉 although she herself is broken but their future is really really interesting...

in short these two interludes are basically Ranveer's thoughts and everybody else preparing him for the big day..😆 Finch trying to make him a man to show his RV side to her and Amba igniting hope to hope for d best n stop running away.. but he... I don't think something got in his mind...😆 the last scene at station was like as if Ranveer vida hoke sasural ja raha ho...🤣 itna kyu ghabraya hua hai.. 🤣 We'll know only when THAT NIGNT, the mysterious one, will b revealed which u r continously pushing forward again n again...😡 now plz 16th shall b the final one..

And now one thing I noted in these chapters is the similarities between these two.. both accepted that they are not heartless, he didn't fires Jamson n Ishani is giving bonuses... both are turning human as the time of their meeting lessen n both didn't like it... both accepted their love, he in front of Finch while she disclosed it to puneet n rishi... above all both are using the same dialogues now, some things never remains same n some things never change...😆 as u said they are definitely 2 peas of a pod... in my language pakke laila majnu...🤣 n between them we are madly struck... show gone but we r at d same place where we were 3 months ago... n u all writers are just making sure to maintain it in d same way...😆 but to be honest I think we don't want to get over them...😳 although sometimes I do feel ke achcha hi hua that show ended coz past few months has only bitter memories..🥺 but when these two will leave our heart n mind can nowhere to be seen... 🤔 every nerve is infected with their virus...😆 sigh... see nostalgic attack... 😆

chalo now update jaldi jaldi... another chapter of their life n we all r waiting... 🤗 🤗

Hey LM hi hope you are fine.
Now coming to book 4 if as per poplu this is the last book than journey towards end have started but I cannot believe anything until I have read last chapter with another filler following it because it's you and we'll you are LM: the mysterious enigma 😆 😆 sorry your writing effect don't blame it on me. 😳
OK dusk to glorious era well is it only related to he winning the kite competition or more over it is dusk to their glorious time period of book 3 during which their relationship bloomed 🤓
OK so 23 years and HP unbeatable well what can I say may be he had not met someone like ranveer I guess 😎
He is so excited and well baa I thought she will give whiplashes even for mere thought of competing with his master. 😡
Now if ishani is drama queen them he is also nautanki they both know how to make other go weak on his knees to make their point agreed. 😆
Another tennis match well ranveer can't help she can never accept defeat so easily but I guess after knowing the current scenario he will appreciate that quality of her 👏
Ishani in telecom 🤣 seriously whole sector will run in huge deficit she herself will speak so much 😆
He never want to let down neither HP nor ishani is HP is his mentor then she is her inspiration.
O dear how magically you have described the whole kite flying experience I myself felt like being there with all the excitement building up within me a huge applause for that 👏 👏 👏
O poor guy is bleeding but the heat of the moment making it all painless so focussed he was at that time with sole objective of cutting down that one kite it's like when you start working towards your goal other achievements fall in your laps effortlessly. I will say that he jsut wanted to stay there in air for a while and all things will fall in place eventually that has what happened.
Ishani came to support him well what can I say it seems not only her father even she loves ranveer the way he does she knew how important it was for him.
They both know each other so well.
You know what ishani HP and ranveer you have crafted all these characters so perfectly complex that if I think that I k ow everything about them then you will come out with another layer of their which is totally new and unexpected and how much you have played with their character portrayal but all them were best I was so amazed to see it.
Sorry for drifting away where was I o competition ya it seems whole environment was favouring him apart from all the cheerful people first time I guess poor guy got so much hooting inspite of being g his social tag 😭
OK finally he won that moment description was simply the best in this whole chapter nothing can beat it the whole euphoria of everything thing going into oblivion only the success and you was the best described it seems like whole adrenaline was rushing through my blood it was awesome I just loved it.
Then comes the moment to let victory sink in well I like one thing about them a lot wheather it's victory loss or happiness or pain they just need each other's shoulder to celebrate it and no amount of celebration can ever overcome it. 👏 👏 😳
This chapter was excellent dear I loved it so much am kind of still dazed to praise you anymore just a word perfect.
Thnx foer pm and waiting for next

Hey! I did expect something more than Book Four. But Book Four, which I guess, is the last book concerning the past. Next will be of the present, maybe.

Hii LM,
Awesome chapter dear i really enjoy to read it.Oh!! kite fly competion i like flying kite.ranveer want ishani with her when he flying kite and ishani such a drama queen but finally our boy ne mana liye... dhikara was so smart he win and break hp 23 year rec...ye magic only ranveer kar sakta h bcoz he's mister perfect. And the terrec scene simply amazed...i liked the whole chapter. By the way this chapter was last chap in the third book.

Oh my God. Nothing makes me as proud as this. >>

Originally posted by: CarpedeimRose

So ,I am the first to comment here

The chapter was so refined ,that I finished reading it within a giffy wow,loved it dear LM🤗

Ur indeed increasing my reading speed I already have a fair path in reading works now u are indeed making my more enthusiastic ,I have to tell u dearest😳😳

THat was an awesome chapter👏👏

Continue soon😃

Let me know what ur studying ? okk