Jayant

Alisha sat by the airplane window, her gaze fixed on the endless stretch of clouds outside, but my eyes were on her.
This girl... she loves me so deeply that she's willing to carry her pain in silence-just so I can be happy. She's taking me to meet the woman I love... even though I am the man she loves.

I'm not sure what kind of relationship Aransh and Alisha share, but she's willing to give him a chance instead of us.

Where does she find this strength? This impossible courage?

I keep staring at her, searching for the answer, but all I can see is the same Alisha I once knew-my Alisha. And yet... Shreya said she love me, Then why... why can't I see the possessiveness in her eyes? Why isn't she trying to keep me?
What kind of love is this-where she doesn't fight, doesn't hold on, doesn't pull me back... but instead lets me walk straight into someone else's arms?

It's maddening. Because in my mind, love has always been raw, desperate... the kind that claws and bleeds to keep what it holds dear. But hers... hers is calm. Too calm. As if she's ready to set me free, even if it tears her apart inside.

And yet... here I am, flying towards Shreya because Alisha asked me to.
Why? Why do I become so weak in front of Alisha? Why is it that when it comes to her, I forget how to choose for myself?

Yesterday at the airport, when I closed my eyes, I trying to see Shreya, imagine every beautiful moments with her. A girl... wearing bangles... long hair flowing behind her, running away from me in the mist. And I was chasing her. I grabbed her wrist, she turned it was Shreya, giving smile to me. But then, suddenly, then suddenly her face switch with Alisha. I hadn't expected that.
It can't be possible... I can't be in love with both.

Maybe I had been thinking about Alisha too much, and that's why she appeared in that moment. Just maybe...

But Shreya... I had hurt her so bad, when I remembering the last night, realised how bad i have behave with others, how I push both of them Alisha and Shreya in my rage, I know alisha already forgive for this but Shreya, I need proper apology for this. And no matter what my heart feels, I owe her an apology.

∆∆°•°∆∆

Our flight had just landed in Bangalore. As we stepped into the terminal, both of us locked eyes, and without a word spoken, we shared the same unspoken thought: "We need a makeover."

Without wasting a moment, we headed straight to the nearest mall, just a few minutes away from the airport. The excitement in our veins was electric-we were on a mission. We tried on outfit after outfit, making the changing rooms our temporary stage. Clothes flew on and off as we examined ourselves in every mirror.

Alisha came out of one of the trial rooms, visibly annoyed, her lips forming a little pout. "Bhalu, there's not a single pair of jeans here that fits me!" she whined like a frustrated child.

I didn't even look up from the shirt I was adjusting in the mirror. "Try something else," I replied casually, brushing off her drama like I always did.

She huffed and disappeared back into the racks, determined to find something better. Meanwhile, I had finalized a crisp olive-green shirt that fit me just right. Feeling satisfied, I waited outside the changing rooms, checking my reflection one last time.
And then she stepped out.
Alisha appeared in a shoulder strap cut-out, gathered fit-and-flare mini dress. For a moment, I swear the world slowed down. She looked stunning. The kind of stunning that makes strangers turn, jaws drop, and hearts skip a beat.

But I snapped out of it quickly and pushed her gently back toward the trial room. "Nope. Go back and try something else," I said firmly.

She turned to me with wide eyes, clearly confused. "Why? I thought this looked really good." I nodded, half smiling.
"Yeah, but we're not here to make Bangalore boys faint today, are we?"
That made her stop. She looked at me, slightly amused, slightly surprised.

"So... I look beautiful?" I cut in before she could start celebrating. "Yes, but-"
She cut me off before I could finish. "No buts. That's it. Final. I'm buying this."
Arguing with Alisha was like yelling into the wind. Pointless.

So I sighed, grabbed a thin white-and-red litchi-printed jacket from the nearby rack, and handed it to her. She took it with a smile-not the loud kind, but that quiet, knowing one-and said nothing.
We still had to visit Shreya, and just as we stepped out of the clothing section, my eyes caught the sparkle of the jewelry section nearby. Without even thinking, I wandered off toward it, distracted by the glint and glitter.

I didn't even notice when Alisha's hand slipped away from mine. The moment I stepped into the jewelry store, a calm warmth wrapped around me. The soft glow of golden lights, the shimmer of stones, the elegant silence-everything felt heavier with meaning. I walked up to the counter and softly asked one of the staff,
"Could you show me a mangalsutra... something meaningful, something... beautiful?"

Almost instantly, all eyes turned to me. A few staff members exchanged amused glances. One of them, whispering just loud enough for me to catch, said with a smile, "He must be buying it for his wife. How romantic."

I could feel the color rising in my cheeks. Me-blushing. It was ridiculous, and yet... kind of sweet. I wasn't buying it for just anyone. I was buying it for Shreya.
Back in Delhi, she had left behind a ring in a moment of rage. I still remembered the fire in her eyes, the hurt in her voice. I had picked it up quietly as we walked out of the apartment, holding onto the promise I made her ago-that when I proposed, it wouldn't just be with a ring.
It would be with a mangalsutra.
As I scanned the tray of designs, one caught my eye-a delicate, diamond-coated piece that wasn't too loud, but it held elegance, strength, and grace. Just like her.
"I'll take this one," I said, almost in a whisper.

While the staff wrapped it with practiced hands, I looked at my reflection in the nearby mirror and muttered to myself,
"Shreya, I'm not giving you a single reason to be upset anymore."

After paying the bill, I stepped outside. The world felt different-heavier, real. And there, just beyond the glass doors, I saw Alisha looking around, scanning the crowd, clearly searching for me.
I slipped the small mangalsutra box into my pocket-it fit perfectly. I hadn't told her where I was going. She hadn't even asked. Strange.

I didn't want her to see the mangalsutra. I didn't want to hurt her. I already had-more than she deserved. Unintentionally, maybe, but pain doesn't come with disclaimers.

When I reached her, I casually said,
"Sorry... had to use the washroom."
She didn't question it. Didn't press. She just nodded, like she didn't want to know more.

Outside the mall, I booked a rental car and we were soon on our way to Shreya's place. The sky had begun to dim-the city lights slowly taking over from the sun.

As we drove, Alisha's phone kept ringing. Again. And again. But she didn't pick up.
She just stared out the window, her face unreadable.
And for the first time in a long time, the silence between us wasn't comfortable. It was filled with things left unsaid.
---
I brought the car to a slow halt just outside Shreya's house. The engine hummed for a moment before I turned it off. We both stepped out, the air suddenly thick with something unspoken.

Shreya's home stood tall and serene-an architectural harmony of tradition and warmth. Terracotta roofs sloped gracefully above intricately carved wooden doors, while brass statues stood like silent guardians near the entrance. Courtyards peeked through latticework, the scent of jasmine wafting through the still evening air. It was the kind of place that felt like it held stories in its walls.
As I stood there, taking it all in, Alisha looked at me. Her voice was soft-softer than I'd heard it in a long time.
"Let's go, Jayant."

But beneath her calm tone, there was something else. A quiet ache. Of course there was. She had come all this way to reunite the man she loved... with the woman he loved.

How do you walk someone into that kind of heartbreak and still smile?
She took a slow step toward the house, but just as she was about to move forward, I gently caught her hand.
She froze. I didn't look at her at first. I couldn't. I just held her hand a moment longer than I should've, then turned to her and said softly,
"Wait here... please."

Her eyes searched mine, maybe for an explanation, maybe for a reason to stay or leave. But I didn't offer one.
And with that, I let go of her hand and walked alone toward the carved door-leaving her behind in the evening light, standing still in the silence that followed.

The moment I stepped inside, the familiar scent of sandalwood wrapped around me like a memory.
There he was-Uncle-Shreya's father, sitting in his favourite wooden armchair by the window. A cup of chai rested on the side table while he flipped through a thick hardcover, half-absorbed in it, half-aware of the world around him.
Aunty wasn't in sight.

Where is Shreya's mother? The question lingered in my mind, but I didn't dare ask yet. My heart was pounding like I was back in school, about to be scolded for something I didn't know I did. I walked toward him slowly, nerves tightening around my chest.

Bending down, I touched his feet and said with forced calm, "Namaste, Uncle. How are you?"

He closed his book, placing it gently on the table beside him. Then, without even a flicker of warmth in his eyes, he replied curtly,
"Jayant. Sit down. What brings you here?"

That was it. No smile. No welcome. Just a plain, distant tone-almost like I was a stranger on his porch.

I sat down in the chair next to him, trying not to fidget. My palms were already damp. His gaze bore into me, sharp and unmoving.

Then suddenly, he called out-his voice raised, sharp enough to make me jump.
"Meena!"
I froze. The sound of his shout echoed in my bones. From the kitchen came her voice, as soft as his was harsh-sweet, affectionate, like a balm.
"Yes? Tell me..." Still staring straight at me, Uncle said dryly,
"Bring another cup of tea. We have an unfamiliar guest in the house."
Unfamiliar guest.

His words stung more than they should have. The weight of them hit hard-so, Shreya had told them everything. About the fight. About us.
I swallowed the hurt and asked gently,
"Uncle... is Shreya home?"
He didn't hesitate. "No."
I leaned forward a little, concerned.
"Where did she go? When will she be back?"

He took a slow sip of tea, then replied,
"She left for an interview."
Interview?
That didn't make sense. She had landed in Bangalore just this morning. After everything that happened between us, I thought she'd be... broken. Lost. But she was out there, chasing opportunities, keeping herself strong.

Uncle noticed the confusion in my eyes and said, with a pride that masked a deeper message,
"She doesn't cry. She's my daughter."

I looked him in the eye, trying to hold my ground. "Do you know where the interview is? I just want to see her..."

He cut me off before I could finish.
"If she were going to one place, I would've told you. But she's gone to several companies. There are more chances here in Bangalore than she ever had in Delhi. She only wasted time there."
The taunt was clear.

I stood up slowly, steadying myself. I didn't look at him, just bowed again and said softly,
"I'll go, Uncle. I'll find her myself."

He didn't offer any blessings. Just stared at me like I was nothing but an interruption to his quiet evening. And then, with a tone that sounded more like a challenge than a farewell, he said,
"Find her, then."

As I turned to leave, Aunty stepped out just in time, her expression kind and welcoming.
"At least have tea before you go," she said gently.
I smiled faintly and replied,
"I'll have it with Shreya... when I bring her home."

Before she could respond, Uncle called out from behind, "wo tumhare sath wapas nhi aayegi, or na hi wapas jaayegi."
("She won't come back with you. And she won't leave with you either.")

His words were like a closing door.
I turned around one last time, looked him square in the eye and said, "bhale hi wo mere sath, naa aaye, na kahi Jaye, but wo hmesha meri hi rhegi."
("She may not come or go with me... but she'll always be mine.")

With that, I stepped outside.
Alisha was in the car, waiting patiently. As I approached, she reached for the door handle, ready to step out.
"No need to come out," I said, more sharply than I intended.

She paused, then slowly shut the door again. I slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and without another word, we pulled away from the house.
But my thoughts were still with Uncle. With his eyes full of disdain, with the way he said "unfamiliar."

He didn't like me. Maybe he never did. Maybe I was never good enough for his daughter in his eyes.
But that didn't matter. Because no matter what he believed, no matter how far Shreya ran... No force in this world could truly keep us apart.
I tightened my grip on the wheel.
Let's see who finds whom first, Shreya.
As soon as we got back into the car, Alisha turned to me with a soft, concerned voice,
"What happened...? Shreya wasn't home?"

Her face-so innocent, so genuinely worried-tilted slightly toward me, searching for answers. But I kept my eyes locked on the road ahead, trying to mask the storm that was building inside me.

She placed her hand gently on my shoulder, the warmth of it cutting through the cold tension in my chest.
"Jayant, talk to me. Please..."
I blinked, exhaled deeply, letting the breath carry a little bit of my frustration and pain with it.
"It's nothing. Once I find Shreya... everything will be okay."

Alisha's brows furrowed.
"But if she wasn't home, can't we just wait there? She'll return eventually, right?"
I shook my head slightly, scanning the streets as though hoping the city itself might offer a clue.
"I don't know when she'll come back. And I... I can't wait."

There was a pause. Then, in an attempt to lift the weight in the air, she teased me,
"Aww... the desperate heart, aching to see his beloved again."
Her words made me smile-just a little. That familiar tug at the corner of my lips.

But Alisha wasn't done. Before I could stop her, she reached out and began tickling me out of nowhere.
"Come on, smile properly. You looked like a lost puppy back there."

I couldn't help it-I laughed, really laughed for the first time in hours, the tension breaking like a thin layer of ice. She grinned, satisfied. A moment later, I pulled over near a small flower shop. Blue tulips caught my eye-the exact kind Shreya adored. I bought a bouquet, the petals as vibrant and hopeful as my intentions. Placing them carefully on the backseat, I returned to the driver's seat.
Alisha kept glancing into the rearview mirror at the flowers, her gaze lingering with unspoken thoughts. Then, almost absentmindedly, she asked,
"Where are we going, anyway? Do you... even know where she is?"
I gave a small nod, my eyes still on the road. "Yes. She received offers from three top architecture firms here in Bangalore."
But even as I said the words, my heart sank a little.

Because I remembered-every time she got these opportunities, she'd turn them down. For me. For us. And what had I given her in return?
I fight with her. The guilt stole the rest of my sentence.

Alisha noticed. She stared at me for a moment before quietly turning her face toward the window, letting the city blur past her as she fell silent too.

We had already checked two offices-both dead ends. Only one was left. My heartbeat was growing heavier with each passing second.

What if she's not there either? What if she refuses to come back? What will I even say to her?

I clutched the tulips a little tighter. My chest felt heavy-like it was filled with wet cotton. As we got out of the car and started walking toward the last office, Alisha's phone began to ring. She quickly silenced it, hoping I wouldn't notice.
But I did.
"Who was it?" I asked.
"No one important," she replied quickly, brushing it off.
It rang again. I glanced over and saw the name on the screen: Papa, Alok Uncle-her father.

Before she could stop me, I snatched the phone from her hand.
"Give it back!" she said, slightly panicked.
"He's only calling to scold me. I didn't tell him I was leaving. And I left with you, remember?"

I held the phone just out of her reach-her height no match for mine.
"Then let him scold you. Or better yet-I'll take the call."

She protested, trying to pull my arm down, but I answered anyway.
Uncle's voice was sharp, clearly angry.
"How could you just leave without informing anyone?! You had a doctor's appointment today!"

That caught me off guard.
"Papa!" Alisha cut in loudly, trying to stop him from saying more. It worked-he paused mid-sentence.
Doctor? Appointment? My eyes narrowed slightly, confused. I stepped in, trying to calm the storm.
"Uncle, she's safe. She's with me... we're in Bangalore."
There was a pause, then a tone of surprise.
"Bangalore? What are you doing there?"
"We're here to see Shreya," I explained, my voice steady. But before I could say more, the line went dead.

A long beep. I looked at Alisha. She gave a small, awkward smile.
"Must've been a network issue..." she mumbled, eyes darting away from mine.
But something in her expression said otherwise. Still puzzled, I asked,
"You had an appointment? What for?"
She avoided my eyes, her voice lower now. "It was nothing. Just a routine check-up."
A pause.
Then she added, "You go check inside... see if Shreya's there."

I studied her face for a second longer, but she wasn't meeting my eyes anymore.
I nodded slowly, adjusting the bouquet in my hands and giving her phone back.
"Yeah... okay."
"Don't go anywhere, I will come soon." I said putting my hand on his head.
And with a breath, I turned toward the office doors-hoping that just on the other side, Shreya would be there, waiting to be found.

∆∆°•°∆∆

I walked slowly into the building, my footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floor, heart pounding with anticipation. The reception area was wide and open, sunlight spilling through tall glass windows, illuminating the space with a warm glow.
And then-my eyes found her.
There she was. Shreya.

She stood in a far corner of the hall, talking animatedly, laughter bubbling from her lips like music I hadn't heard in days. God, she looked beautiful.
Her hair was tied up neatly, but a few stubborn strands had escaped and were gently brushing against her cheek-just like they always did when she was too busy to care. She was wearing a crisp light-blue shirt tucked into tailored black formal pants, her black heels clicking lightly as she shifted her weight from one leg to another.

Heels. The same ones she always complained about. "These heels are like walking on knives," she'd once said with a dramatic groan. But here she was, wearing them again-maybe to look more confident, more powerful. She didn't need them. She was powerful.

I was frozen for a moment. Just watching her. Taking her in. That smile, that grace, that fierce light in her eyes-it was all still there. It was still her. My Shreya.
But then something shifted.
She wasn't alone.

A guy stood with her, smiling just as widely, nodding along with everything she said. And she was laughing-really laughing-with him. That open, carefree kind of laugh I used to think was reserved only for me. My heart dropped.
I narrowed my eyes, taking a step forward, trying to get a better look.
And then I recognized him.
Gaurav Mathur.

The name hit me like a punch in the gut.
The same Gaurav her parents had once picked out for her-the "ideal match"-before they even knew I existed in her life.
What the hell was he doing here?
What was she doing with him?
My breath quickened. I could feel jealousy boiling in my chest, rising fast and hot like a wildfire. My fists clenched before I even realized it.

Every step I took toward them felt heavier, angrier. I didn't care that I was in a public space. I didn't care who saw.
All I saw was her... With him.
And the worst part?
She hadn't even noticed me. She was too busy smiling at him. The fire in my chest roared louder. I wasn't just hurt now.
I was furious. And I was done watching from a distance.

I walked right up to them. With as much calm as I could muster, I offered her the tulips, my voice gentle but firm.
"Hi, my love."

The words felt like truth. Unshakable. Undeniable. They both turned to me.
Gaurav's face stiffened, as if someone had pulled the ground from beneath his feet. But Shreya...Her smile didn't fade.
It vanished. In a blink.

As if someone had reached into her chest and pulled something out. She didn't say anything. Didn't move.
Didn't even blink for a moment.
She just stared at me.

Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes... they told a different story.
Her eyes lost their sparkle, that playful shimmer that always danced when she laughed. It was gone.
And in its place-Pain.
I hadn't expected this. I knew she'd be shocked. I even imagined her yelling at me, pushing me away, angry tears in her eyes. But this silence?
This heartbreak in her gaze?
It shook me. I stood there, still holding the tulips between us like a fragile offering-like an apology the wind could carry away. And she just stood there, frozen in time...
Not reaching for the flowers.
Not reaching for me.

Only her eyes speaking.
And what they said... It broke something inside me.

The bouquet in my hand had started to tremble-not because of the weight, but because neither Shreya was reaching out to take it, nor could I bring myself to pull it back.

We stood there, in the middle of a grand office building-glass walls, a wide reception hall, polished floors reflecting the light, and a quiet buzz of people passing by. Yet between us... there was silence.

Not the kind that fills a room-
The kind that stretches between two hearts. Shreya looked at me. And I looked right back. And in between us-a bouquet of blue tulips, trembling, holding all the words we couldn't say.
Then a voice broke the stillness.
"Miss Murthy, your documents please."
She took a breath, one she must've been holding since the moment she saw me-
then placed a hand on her chest, wiped her sweaty palm on her shirt, and walked over to collect the file.

I waited. Hoping. Hurting.
But she didn't return.
She stood near the reception, still-
as if thinking... weighing something deep inside. That's when Gaurav walked up beside her. He said something I couldn't hear.And then-
they both turned toward the exit.
She didn't even glance back.
As if I didn't exist. As if I had never mattered. As if I was just... someone she used to know. I rushed toward her, not thinking-only feeling.
In a heartbeat, I reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it tightly like I was holding onto the last piece of my soul.

She turned to me slowly, her eyes heavy, voice low and sharp like a blade.
"Let go of my hand," she said.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't. With a voice trembling from love and desperation, I whispered, "Never. Not in this life. Not even in death."

Shreya scoffed-cold, detached, a stranger in the skin of the girl I once knew.

"People lie in love," she said, her voice cutting through me.
"But at least don't lie like this... It's easy to tell when you're faking it."

Her words hit harder than a slap.
They didn't echo-they embedded themselves inside me like splinters.
She tried to pull away, struggling to free her wrist, even though one of her hands was occupied with a file.
I still had the tulips in my other hand, which made it impossible to hold her with both.
But I didn't need both-my heart was gripping hers tightly enough.

"I'm not lying," I said, eyes locked with hers. "Yes, you are!" she snapped back. "You always did. Every single time."
And just then, Gaurav stepped in.
With a smug confidence, he placed his hand over mine, trying to break my hold.

"She said let go," he said coolly, full of entitlement. But I didn't even flinch.
Instead, I jerked his hand away, looked him dead in the eye, and said with calm, deliberate intensity-
"When two people who love each other are speaking, a third person should know better than to interrupt."

My voice wasn't loud. But it thundered between us. Then, Shreya's voice cut through the tension like a dagger.
"We're not lovers," she said sharply, her gaze unwavering. "We're exes now. And he's not some outsider... he's my friend."

She paused, but only for a second. Then her words came harder, laced with something raw-anger, maybe... or pain.
"Just like your friends," she continued, voice rising with each word. "The ones who always found their way between us. Remember them?"

Her words struck deeper than she probably realized. I faltered-just for a moment. My grip loosened, the certainty in my hand slipping along with the memory of every fight, every misunderstanding fueled by voices that were never ours.

And in that second of hesitation, she yanked her wrist free-firmly, finally.
I didn't move. I just stood there, the blue tulips still clutched in my hand, watching her walk away again. This time, not with silence... but with the echo of truths I never dared to confront.

Shreya turned to Gaurav and muttered something before beginning to walk away with him. But I couldn't let her leave. Not like this. Not again. She was angry, I knew that, but that didn't mean I would give up on her.

"Shreya! Shreya, please..." I called out, rushing to catch up to her.

Gaurav had probably gone down to the basement to get the car. Shreya stood under the awning, waiting, her arms folded-both shielded and stubborn. I stood in front of her, desperate to be seen, to be heard.

"Shreya," I said, breathless, "maybe you don't realize what you are to me..."
She cut me off, her voice filled with hurt and fire. "Oh, I know exactly what I was to you."
"No," I said firmly, taking a step closer. "Not was. You are my love, Shreya. Still."

She laughed-but there was no joy in it, only bitterness. "No, Jayant. I was your toy. You played with me whenever Alisha wasn't around."

Her words hit me like a slap. "Why do you hate her so much?" I asked, holding her wrist. "What did Alisha do?"

She yanked her hand free again, eyes flaring. "It's not about her! Can't you see what the real problem is?"
Then her voice cracked with anger. "Why are you even here? You ended everything at the airport, remember? That was your decision."
"I was angry, I-" I stammered.
She scoffed. "You weren't angry. You were calm. You made a choice, Jayant. A clear one."
"I thought it was the right thing at the time," I whispered, "but then..."

"Then what?" she demanded.
I hesitated, then said quietly, "Alisha made me understand-"
Her face flushed with rage, her voice rising like thunder. "For God's sake, stop dragging her into our story!"
"I didn't mean-she just-she helped me see-"

Shreya threw up her hand. "Stop it, Jayant! What I couldn't make you see in all this time, Alisha did in one conversation? That alone shows how easily influenced you are by her."

Before I could speak again, the sky broke open. Rain fell in sudden sheets, soaking us in seconds.
We stood there, two broken people under a broken sky.
I told her we should go inside, but she refused. She wanted to wait for Gaurav.
I sighed and turned to check the car-just to make sure Alisha was alright.
But she wasn't there. The back seat was empty.

A chill ran through me, stronger than the rain. "Alisha?" I whispered. Then louder. "Alisha!" Panic set in.

Everything slipped out of my hands.
I ran to the car, opened every door-nothing. She was gone. My voice rose as I shouted her name, spinning around, searching.

I pulled out my phone with trembling hands and called her.
Her phone rang...but she doesn't received. "No. No no no..." My chest tightened. I screamed her name again, praying she was within earshot.

Shreya rushed toward me. "Jayant, calm down! What's going on?"

My words tumbled out in gasps. "Alisha-she was with me-she was in the car-I told her to wait-and she doesn't receiving my calls-she's gone, Shreya, she's just gone!"

Shreya gently held my shoulders, trying to steady me. "It's okay. It's okay. Maybe she just stepped out somewhere. Come on-we'll find her. Let's check nearby."

We began walking into the night together, but my heart had never felt so lost.

Even after searching in every possible corner, she was nowhere to be found.
I pulled out my phone with trembling hands and dialed Vijay. The moment he picked up, I barked, "Track Alisha's phone... now. I need to know where she is."

Shreya, right next to me, reached out as if to calm me down. "Jayant, she's here somewhere... she's not a child," she said softly, trying to reassure me.

But her words barely registered. My mind was already racing ahead, my pulse pounding in my ears. I kept moving-searching-calling her name aloud in the crowd, my voice breaking with urgency.

Moments later, a text from Vijay flashed on my screen-a set of coordinates. The location was close, just across from where I stood. Without wasting a second, I ran, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I didn't notice if Shreya was following but apparently Gaurav tried to hold her back. She still came after me.

When I reached the location, my chest tightened. Alisha wasn't there. Only her phone lay on the ground, screen cracked, as if abandoned in a hurry. I picked it up.

The wallpaper caught my eye-white letters on a dark background: 'You are Alisha Parmar.'
It didn't make sense. I wanted to dwell on it, to understand, but panic left no room for questions.

My breathing turned shallow, ragged. Fear clawed up my throat. Without thinking twice, I headed straight for the police station.

__________________________________________

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