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˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍒✧˚.⋆

The morning began like any other.

At least, that was how it looked.

Sunlight slipped through the hostel windows in soft golden strips, spreading lazily across the room. Somewhere outside, younger children were already awake, their voices drifting through the corridors. A distant bell rang from the kitchen, followed by Kamala Kaki's familiar voice telling someone not to run indoors.

Everything felt normal.

Almost.

Aira noticed it first.

Not because Riya did something unusual.

But because she wasn't doing the things she usually did.

Normally, mornings belonged to Riya.

She would be talking before anyone else was properly awake, complaining about breakfast, teasing Sona for sleeping like a starfish, or trying to make Aira smile before school.

Today, she wasn't.

She was sitting near the window, brushing her hair quietly.

Too quietly.

Aira looked up from her notebook.

Then looked again.

Riya was smiling.

But it wasn't her usual smile.

It came and went too quickly, as if she was thinking about something else.Something she wasn't sharing.

Across the room, Sona seemed to notice it too.

Which was surprising.

Because Sona usually noticed food before emotions.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Didi."

Riya hummed.

"Didiii."

This time Riya looked at her.

"Haan?"

Sona sat up dramatically.

"Aap kuch chhupa rahe ho."

(You're hiding something.)

Riya blinked.

Then laughed.

A little too quickly.

"Main? Bilkul nahi."

(Me? Absolutely not.)

"Jhooth."

Sona pointed at her immediately.

"Pakda gaya."

(Caught.)

Riya rolled her eyes.

"Aur madam detective ko aisa kyun lag raha hai?"

(And why does Madam Detective think that?)

"Kyuki aap ajeeb behave kar rahe ho."

(Because you're behaving weird.)

"Main hamesha ajeeb behave karti hoon."

(I always behave weirdly.)

"Ye alag wala ajeeb hai."

(This is a different kind of weird.)

For a moment, even Aira looked up from her notebook and nodded slightly.

Very slightly.

But enough.

Riya stared at both of them.

Then shook her head.

"Pagal ho tum dono."

(You two are crazy.)

Maybe they were.

But neither of them looked convinced.

The room fell quiet again.

Riya returned to fixing her hair.

Aira returned to her notebook.

Sona continued staring.

One minute passed.

Then two.

Then three.

Finally, unable to tolerate unanswered questions, Sona slid off her bed and marched straight toward Riya.

"Didi."

"Hmm?"

"Sach batao."

(Tell the truth.)

"Kis baare mein?"

(About what?)

"Jo bhi hai."

(Whatever it is.)

Riya laughed despite herself.

"There is no 'whatever it is'."

"There is."

"There isn't."

"There is."

"There isn't."

"There is."

"There isn't."

"Didi."

"Sona."

"Didi."

"Sona."

Aira quietly watched the argument continue.

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly.

Just slightly.

Riya noticed.

"Tu bhi has rahi hai?"

(Even you're laughing?)

Aira immediately looked back down at her notebook.

As if she had done nothing.

Riya sighed dramatically.

"Great. Dono mere khilaaf ho."

(Great. Both of you are against me.)

"We are."

Sona nodded without hesitation.

Riya reached forward and flicked her forehead.

"Ouch!"

"Good."

"Mean."

"Deserved."

Sona rubbed her forehead and glared.

Then, after a moment, her expression softened.

"Didi..."

This time her voice was quieter.

"Genuinely."

"Sab theek hai na?"

(Is everything okay?)

The question hung in the air.

And for the first time that morning, Riya's smile faded.

Only for a second.

A very small second.

But both girls saw it.

Something moved behind her eyes.

A thought.

A decision.

A secret she had been carrying alone.

Then she smiled again.

Gently.

Warmly.

The way she always did."Haan."

(Yes.)

"Sab theek hai."

(Everything is okay.)

Sona studied her face.

Still unconvinced.

Aira did too.

Quietly.

Carefully.

Riya looked from one to the other and laughed softly."Trust me."

Neither girl looked convinced.

Which only made her shake her head.

"Listen," she said finally.

"There is something."

Both heads snapped toward her instantly.

Sona practically bounced.

"I knew it!"

Riya pointed a warning finger at her."Relax."

Sona immediately sat still.

For approximately two seconds.

Then started fidgeting again.

Riya smiled helplessly."I'll tell you both later."

"When?"

Sona demanded."Later."

"Kitna later?"

(How much later?)

"Later later."

"That is not a real answer."

"It is today."

Sona narrowed her eyes.

Aira quietly watched.

Riya looked at both of them.

Then said softly,

"Abhi nahi bata sakti."

(I can't tell you right now.)

The room became silent.

Not an uncomfortable silence.

Just one filled with curiosity.

Questions.

Possibilities.

Aira lowered her gaze to her notebook again.

But she couldn't focus anymore.

Because for the first time since she had known Riya...

it genuinely felt like she was hiding something.

And whatever it was...

it was important.

Then in afternoon,Riya went to the office.

Alone.

She knocked once.

"Come in," Kamala Kaki's voice responded.

Anita Sharma was there too.

Papers stacked neatly on the desk.

Adult seriousness, as always.

Riya stepped in.

Closed the door behind her.

"Ji?"

Anita looked up gently. "Haan, Riya?"

She hesitated.

Then spoke in one breath.

"Main... kisi ko bata sakti hoon?"

(Can I... tell someone?)

Kamala Kaki exchanged a glance with Anita.

"Kis ko?" she asked softly.(To whom?)

Riya swallowed.

"Aira. Aur Sona."

The names hung in the air.

Not casual names.

Anchor names.

Anita leaned back slightly.

"Kyoon batana chahti ho?"

(Why do you want to tell?)

Riya didn't prepare an answer for that.

She searched honestly.

"Kyoonki..." she struggled. "Woh notice kar rahi hai."

(Because... She is noticing.)

"Kaun?"

(Who?)

"Aira."

Her voice dropped lower.

"Usko lag raha hai main... badal gayi hoon."

(She feels like I've... changed.)

Kamala Kaki's expression shifted.

Understanding.

Anita folded her hands thoughtfully.

"Riya," she said carefully, "yeh process abhi poora confirm nahi hua hai. Agar kisi wajah se kuch 

change ho gaya toh?"

(This process hasn't been completely confirmed yet. What if something changes for some reason?)

Riya nodded quickly. "Mujhe pata hai."

(I know.)

"Phir?"

(Then?)

Silence.

Then quietly, "Main jhoot nahi bolna chahti."

(I don't want to lie.)

That was the real reason.

Not excitement.

Not drama.

Just that.

She didn't want Aira to look at her with confusion.

Anita studied her face for a long moment.

Then she sighed softly.

"Theek hai."

(Alright.)

Riya's eyes lifted immediately.

"Par ek condition hai," Anita continued. "Tum unhe sab kuch nahi bataogi. Sirf itna ki ek family interested hai. Jab tak legal confirmation na ho, kidnapping wali baat... woh nahi."

(But there's one condition, you won't tell them everything. Just that one family is interested. Until there's legal confirmation, the kidnapping part... that stays hidden.)

Riya nodded again.

"And if they react strongly?" Kamala Kaki added gently.

Riya's fingers tightened at her sides."Main handle kar lungi."

(I will handle it.)

It sounded brave.

But her heartbeat betrayed her.

Anita gave a small nod. "Theek hai. Tum bata sakti ho."

(Okay. You can tell.)

Riya felt something loosen inside her chest.

Permission.

Not freedom.

But permission.

Back in the present night, that decision hovered between the three beds like invisible thread.

Aira closed her notebook and lay down.

Sona had already fallen asleep, thumb tucked near her mouth.

Riya turned to face the wall.

Then turned back.

Then sat up abruptly.

"Aira," she whispered.

Aira turned immediately.

"Haan?"

Riya hesitated.

The room felt smaller again.

The fan hummed above them.

Her hands were cold.

"I need to tell you something," she began.

Aira's eyes sharpened instantly.

Not scared.

Ready.

Sona shifted slightly but did not wake.

Riya inhaled slowly.

"I went to the office that day..."

Her voice wavered.

She steadied it."Ek family aayi hai."

(A family has come.)

The same words.

But now spoken between beds instead of across a desk.

Aira did not react immediately.

She waited.

Riya continued, quieter now.

"Woh... mujhe apnana chahte hain."

(They... want to make me theirs.)

The sentence trembled.

Sona stirred.

Half awake.

"Kaun?" she mumbled sleepily.

(Who?)

Riya froze.

Aira's gaze did not leave her face.

The silence expanded.

And in that silence lived everything that might break.

Riya swallowed.

"I don't know what will happen," she said quickly. "Abhi sirf baat ho rahi hai."

(It's just being talked about right now.)

The room felt like it was holding its breath.

Sona pushed herself up groggily. "Kya ho raha hai?"

(What's happening?)

Aira's fingers curled into the bedsheet.

Riya's heart pounded so loudly she wondered if they could hear it."I just..."

She looked at both of them.

Her two constants.

Her present.

"I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else."

Sona's sleep vanished instantly.

Aira's eyes darkened, not with anger.

With calculation.

Processing.

Something fragile was about to shift shape.

Riya opened her mouth to explain more.

And for a moment, nothing came out.

The room waited.

Aira's eyes were steady, unreadable in the dim yellow light. Sona sat up fully now, hair messy, 

sleep gone from her face.

"Apnana?" Sona repeated softly, as if tasting the word for the first time.

Riya nodded.

"Matlab... adopt?" she asked. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

(You mean... adopt?)

"Haan," Riya whispered.

The fan hummed overhead.

Somewhere in the corridor, someone laughed at something unrelated. A bucket scraped against the floor. Ordinary sounds. Ordinary night.

Inside Room 6, nothing felt ordinary.Sona blinked twice. "Toh... aap chale jaoge?"

(So... are you going to leave?)

The question landed exactly where Riya had known it would.

She didn't answer immediately.

Because the truth had layers.

"Abhi sure nahi hai," she said carefully. "Abhi sirf baat chal rahi hai."

(Not sure yet, It's just being talked about for now.)

Sona's fingers twisted into the bedsheet.

"Aap jaana chahte ho?"

(Do you want to go?)

Riya froze.

No adult had asked her that.

Not Kamala Kaki.

Not Anita Sharma.

But Sona did.

Simple. Direct.

Do you want to go?

Riya's heartbeat stuttered.

She glanced at Aira.

Aira was not blinking.

Waiting.

Not for the correct answer.

For the honest one.

"I... I don't know," Riya admitted.

The words were small but real.

Sona's eyes filled immediately. Not dramatic tears. Just quiet gathering.

"Hum kya karenge?" she whispered.

(What are we going to do?)

The sentence cracked something inside Riya.

Hum.

What will we do?

Not what will I do.

Not what will you do.

What will we do?

Riya reached forward and pulled Sona into her arms instinctively.

Sona clung tightly.

Too tightly.

Aira still had not moved.

Her gaze was fixed on Riya's face, not Sona's reaction.

She was reading something deeper.

"You didn't tell us before," Aira wrote finally.

Not accusing.

Stating.

Riya swallowed. "Mujhe mana kiya tha."

(I was denied.)

"Ab?"

(Now?)

"Maine permission maangi."

(I asked for permission.)

That made Aira's brows lift slightly.

"You asked?"

"Haan."

(Yes.)

Silence again.

Aira processed that.

She understood what it meant. It meant Riya had thought about telling them. Had chosen to.

That mattered.

But something else lingered in her expression.

"You've known for how many days?" Aira asked quietly.

Riya hesitated.

"Few."

"How many?"

"Four."

Four days.

Four evenings.

Four nights sleeping in the same room.

Aira's jaw tightened slightly.

Not anger.Hurt.

"You were carrying it alone," she said.

It wasn't a question.

Riya nodded.

Sona pulled back just enough to look at her face. "Woh log kaise hain?"(How are those people?)

Riya's mind flashed to the letter.

Warm handwriting.

Steady tone.

Waiting.

"Pata nahi," she answered truthfully. "Abhi mile bhi nahi properly."

( I don't know, Haven't really met them properly yet.)

That was partly true.

She had not met them properly.

Not yet.

Aira nodded."Theek hai."

(Alright.)

That was all.

She did not ask further.

Did not push.

Did not demand details.

Which somehow hurt more than anger would have.

Sona lay down slowly again but did not turn away.

She kept one hand gripping Riya's sleeve, as if afraid Riya might evaporate overnight.

The room settled.

Not peacefully.

But cautiously.

Like furniture rearranged slightly but not yet stable.

Riya lay down too.

Her heart felt heavy and light at the same time.

Aira turned to face the wall.

But her eyes remained open.

Morning arrived quietly.

Not because the world had become silent.

Not because the orphanage had suddenly forgotten how to be noisy.

But because some mornings carry a strange kind of weight, one that settles over everything long before anyone speaks of it.

This was one of those mornings.

The children were already gathering in the dining hall when Aira arrived.

Steel plates clinked against tables.

Someone was arguing over an extra poha.

A younger child was trying to hide vegetables under the edge of their plate.

Kamala Kaki was scolding three different children at the same time.

Everything looked normal.

And yet...

something felt different.

Aira noticed it immediately.

Her eyes drifted toward Riya.

Riya was laughing.

Smiling.

Talking.

Doing everything she usually did.

But something about it felt... deliberate.

As if she was trying a little too hard.

As if she was making sure nobody noticed the nervousness sitting quietly behind her smile.

Beside her, Sona narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Then pointed a finger.

"Didi."

Riya looked up."Haan?"

"What?"

"Aap kuch chhupa rahe ho."

(You're hiding something.)

Riya blinked.

Then nearly choked on her tea."Nahi toh."

(No, I'm not.)

"Jhooth."

(Liar.)

"Nahi."

"Bilkul jhooth."

(Complete lie.)

Several children nearby burst into laughter.

Riya stared at her dramatically.

"Tum CID mein kyun nahi chali jaati?"

(Why don't you join CID?)

Sona immediately looked pleased with herself.

"Talent hai."

(I have talent.)

The table erupted again.

Even Aira's lips twitched slightly.

For a few minutes, everything felt normal.

Like every other morning.

Like nothing was changing.

Like nobody was leaving.

Then the sound of a car stopping outside reached the dining hall.

The laughter faded.

Not instantly.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

A pause.

A hesitation.

A silence that spread table by table.

Riya's smile disappeared first.

Only for a second.

But Aira saw it.

Saw the way her fingers stopped moving.

Saw the way her shoulders straightened.

Saw the way she suddenly looked smaller than she had a moment ago.

Then Anita Sharma appeared at the entrance.

Her expression was calm.

Warm.

Careful."Riya."

The entire hall seemed to grow quieter.

"Office mein aao beta."

(Come to the office, child.)

Riya stood slowly.

For a brief second her eyes found Aira.

Then Sona.

Then she smiled again.

A smaller smile this time.

And followed Anita Sharma outside.

The office door closed behind them.

And suddenly the dining hall felt much larger than before.

The news spread through the orphanage before lunch.

Not because anyone announced it.

Because orphanages have their own way of knowing things.

One child overhears something.

Another notices visitors.

A third sees paperwork.

And somehow everyone knows.

By afternoon, every child in the building had heard the same thing.

Riya was being adopted.

Not maybe.

Not someday.

Soon.

Very soon.

The possibility itself wasn't new.

That was the strange part.

Months ago, Riya had asked them not at all seriously.

It had happened one evening while the three of them sat beneath the neem tree.

Aira with her notebook.

Sona with a stolen mango.

Riya with a strange expression on her face."If someone adopts me someday..."

The sentence had arrived out of nowhere.

Sona immediately frowned."Kyun?"(Why?)

Riya laughed.

"Kyunki adoption isi tarah kaam karta hai."

(Because that's how adoption works.)

Sona hated that answer.

Aira remembered that.

The dramatic eye-roll.

The offended expression.

The ten-minute argument that followed.

But later, after Sona had been distracted by something else, Riya had quietly looked at Aira.

"If it happens..."

she had said softly,"gussa mat hona."

(Don't be angry.)

Aira hadn't answered.

Because even then...

the idea had hurt.

The days that followed moved faster than anyone wanted.

Meetings happened.

Documents arrived.

Visitors came and went.

And reality slowly stopped feeling like a possibility.

It became something real.

Something approaching.

Something impossible to ignore.

Riya was leaving.

A few days before her departure, she brought gifts.

Not expensive ones.

Not grand ones.

Just three matching bracelets.

Simple.

Beautiful.

Handmade.

Each one woven carefully with threads of blue and white.

"For us," Riya had declared proudly.

Sona immediately wore hers.

Then broke it less than twenty-four hours later while attempting something extremely stupid involving a tree.

Riya had laughed so hard she nearly cried.

Aira still remembered that.

And afterward, when Sona had dramatically mourned her bracelet for an entire evening, Riya had repaired it herself.

Now all three of them wore matching bracelets.

A silly thing.

A small thing.

And somehow...

one of the most important things they owned.

The final morning arrived far too quickly.

Aira woke before sunrise.

For several moments she simply stared at the ceiling.

The room felt wrong.

Not different.

Wrong.

As if something important had been misplaced.

Then she turned her head.

And saw Riya.

Already awake.

Already dressed.

Already ready.

A bag sat beside her bed.

Packed.

Waiting.

And suddenly Aira remembered.

Today.

The word settled heavily inside her chest.

Today Riya was leaving.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

The room remained quiet except for the distant sounds of children beginning to wake in other dormitories.

Sona, however, was still asleep.

One arm thrown dramatically across the bed.

Half the blanket hanging off the side.

Looking entirely unaware that life was about to change.

Riya glanced at her and sighed.

"Isko agar earthquake bhi aa jaaye na..."

(If an earthquake happens...)

A faint smile appeared on Aira's face.

"...tab bhi ye paanch minute aur soyegi."

(She'll still sleep for five more minutes.)

That earned a small laugh from Riya.

A real one.

Not forced.

Not careful.

Just real.

For a moment, it felt like every other morning.

Then the packed bag ruined the illusion again.

Silence returned.

Neither girl knew what to do with it.

Aira lowered her gaze to her hands.

The bracelet sat around her wrist.

Blue and white threads.

Slightly worn now.

A little loose.

But still there.

Still hers.

Still theirs.

Her fingers brushed against it automatically.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Riya noticed.

Of course she did.

She always noticed.

A softness entered her expression."You still wear it."

Aira looked up.

Riya smiled."Good."

Just one word.

But somehow it made Aira's throat tighten.

Because suddenly she remembered that afternoon.

The bracelets.

The laughter.

Sona crying dramatically over her broken one.

Riya fixing it while calling her an idiot.

Everything had felt so permanent back then.

As if they would always be together.

As if people didn't leave.

As if goodbye was something that happened in stories.

Not here.

Not to them.

Aira looked away.

She didn't want to cry.

Not now.

Not yet.

Breakfast was strange.

Nobody said it out loud.

But everyone knew.

Children kept finding excuses to sit near Riya.

Talk to her.Ask her questions.

Stay close.

Even those who normally fought with her seemed unusually nice.

One younger girl climbed into Riya's lap and refused to move.

A boy offered her the last sweet from his plate.

Another child asked if rich people really ate ice cream every day.

The entire table had immediately demanded answers.

Riya spent ten minutes defending herself against completely imaginary accusations.

By the end of it, even Kamala Kaki was laughing.

The atmosphere became lighter.

For a little while.

Only a little.

Because underneath everything...

everyone was counting down.

After breakfast, the younger children left for school first.

Then the older ones.

Eventually only Aira, Sona and Riya remained near the dormitory.

The silence returned.
This time stronger.

Heavier.

Aira sat on her bed.

Not moving.

Not reaching for her school bag.

Not even pretending.

She wasn't going.

The decision had already been made.

Riya noticed immediately.

"Aru."

No response.

"Aru."

Still nothing.

Riya crossed her arms.

"You aren't going, are you?"

Aira shook her head.

Firm.

Immediate.

Absolutely not.

A small sigh escaped Riya.

Then another.

Then she sat beside her.

Close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

For several moments neither spoke.

Outside, children could be heard leaving through the main gate.

Their voices gradually faded.

Then disappeared.

Still Aira remained where she was.

Unmoving.

Stubborn.

Heartbroken.

Riya understood exactly why.

Which somehow made it worse.

"You know..." she began softly, "I thought you would do this."

Aira didn't look at her.

Because if she did...
she might cry.

And if she cried...

everything would become real.

Riya's voice softened further.

"I'll still be here when you come back."

Aira's fingers tightened around the edge of the bedsheet.

No.

No she wouldn't.

That was the problem.

Even if she came back.

Everything would be different.

As if sensing the thought, Riya continued quietly,

"My parents are coming later."

The word felt strange.

Parents.

Not visitors.

Not adopters.

Parents.

"We'll leave after that."

She paused.

Then added gently,

"So you'll still get time to annoy me."
A tiny smile appeared despite everything.

Riya immediately pointed.

"Dekha?"(See?)

The smile vanished.

Riya looked offended."I worked hard for that."

That almost earned another one.

Almost.

The doorway creaked.

Kamala Kaki appeared.Anita Sharma standing beside her.

Neither woman looked surprised by what they found.

Aira sitting stubbornly on the bed.Riya trying to convince her.

The atmosphere heavy enough to touch.

"School jaana padega, beta."(You'll have to go to school.)

Kamala Kaki's voice was kind.

Gentle.

But firm.

Aira shook her head immediately.

No.

Kamala Kaki exchanged a glance with Anita Sharma.

Then looked back at Aira.

"Agar tum nahi jaogi..."(If you don't go...)

She stopped.

Smiled softly."...toh Riya bhi pareshaan rahegi."(...then Riya will keep worrying.)

That made Aira hesitate.

Only slightly.

But it was enough.

Riya noticed.
And immediately took advantage of it.

Cheater.

"Aru."

She waited until Aira finally looked at her.

Then smiled.

Not brightly.

Not playfully.

Just warmly.

"I'll wait."

Three simple words.

And somehow they hurt more than anything else.

Because they sounded sincere.

Because Riya meant them.

Because neither of them knew fate had other plans.

After a very long silence...

Aira finally nodded.

Once.

Slowly.

Reluctantly.

Riya's shoulders relaxed.

"Good."

Then she stood.

And reached forward.

Very gently.

Very carefully.

She fixed a loose strand of hair that had fallen into Aira's face.

The gesture lasted barely a second.

Yet Aira would remember it much later.

Long after the day was over.

Long after everything changed.

Long after goodbye.

The school day felt endless.

Not because the classes were longer.

Not because the teachers were stricter.

But because Aira's mind never truly entered the classroom.

It remained somewhere else.

Back at the orphanage.

Back near the gate.

Back beside a girl who was leaving.
The teacher asked a question.

Aira didn't hear it.

Children laughed at something.

She didn't know why.

The clock moved.
Slowly.

Cruelly.

Every minute felt heavier than the one before it.

By lunchtime, she had stopped pretending to pay attention altogether.

Her notebook remained open.

Blank.

The pencil resting untouched between her fingers.

Again and again, her thumb brushed against the bracelet around her wrist.

Blue and white threads.

Worn at the edges.

Familiar.Safe.

It made her think of Riya.

Which only made everything worse.

Because for the first time since she had arrived at the orphanage a year ago, Aira found herself wishing she could stop time.

Just for a little while.

Just long enough.

Just enough to keep one person from leaving.

When the final bell rang, children rushed out of their classrooms like birds escaping an open cage.

Laughter filled the courtyard.

Bags swung from shoulders.

Friends called out to each other.

Plans for the evening were made.

But Aira walked more slowly than everyone else.

Almost as if she was afraid of what she would find when she got back.

Or perhaps...
afraid of what she wouldn't.

Her fingers moved to the bracelet again.

Then paused.
A memory surfaced.

Small.

Simple.

Unexpected.

A few months ago.

A crowded market road.

Riya stopping in front of a bangle shop.

Admiring a set through the glass.

Not buying them.

Just smiling at them before walking away.

Aira remembered because it had been one of the rare times Riya had looked at something and wanted it.

Not for herself.

Just because she thought it was pretty.

The memory lingered.

Then an idea appeared.

Sudden.

Bright.

Urgent.

A gift.

Aira stopped walking.

The children around her continued ahead.

Nobody noticed.

Her hand slipped into her pocket.Coins.

A few carefully saved coins.

Nothing more.

But maybe enough.

She counted them once.Then again.

A small spark of determination appeared inside her chest.

Without another thought, she turned.

Away from the road leading home.

Toward the market.

The bangle shop was exactly where she remembered it.

Small.

Crowded.

Overflowing with colour.

Rows and rows of glass bangles lined the walls, catching sunlight and scattering it everywhere.

The shopkeeper looked up as the bell above the entrance chimed.

His expression softened slightly when he saw her.

"Haan beta?"

(Yes, child?)

Aira stepped closer.

Her eyes moved carefully over the displays.

Red.

Green.

Gold.

Blue.

Silver.

Some covered in stones.

Others painted with delicate designs.

She examined each one seriously.
As if making an important decision.

Because she was.

Finally her gaze settled on a simple set.

Soft pink.

Tiny floral patterns.

Elegant without being flashy.

Beautiful without demanding attention.

For some reason...

they reminded her of Riya.

Aira pointed.

The shopkeeper brought them down.

She checked the price.

Counted her coins.

Twice.

Relief washed through her when she realized she had enough.

The shopkeeper wrapped them carefully in a small plastic packet.

Aira accepted it with both hands.

Holding it far more carefully than something so fragile probably deserved.

But to her...

it wasn't just a set of bangles.

It was a goodbye she hadn't managed to say yet.

By the time she stepped back outside, the afternoon had grown busier.

The roads were more crowded.

Vehicles moved faster.

People hurried in every direction.

The city seemed louder than before.

But Aira barely noticed.

She began walking quickly.

Almost running.

The packet remained clutched tightly in her hand.

She just needed to get back.

Just needed to reach the orphanage.
Just needed to give this to Riya before she left.

Just needed a few more minutes.

Just a little more time.

The universe, however, is not always kind to children who ask for more time.

A man hurried past her.

Their shoulders brushed.

Barely.

A small accidental touch.

The kind people forget immediately.

But the moment it happened...

something inside Aira froze.

Not outside.

Inside.

Like a rusted door had suddenly been forced open.

Her steps slowed.

The sounds around her shifted.

A horn blared somewhere nearby.

Too loud.

A conversation drifted past.
Too sharp.

Someone laughed.

The sound seemed to echo strangely inside her head.

Her grip tightened around the plastic packet.

The bangles clinked softly together.
A delicate sound.

Yet even that felt unbearable.

Aira stopped walking.
Her heartbeat stumbled.

Then raced.

Then raced faster.

Too fast.

Much too fast.
Her chest felt tight.

Her lungs suddenly forgot how to breathe properly.

Air entered.
But never enough.

Never enough.

Never enough.

Around her, people continued moving.

Unaware.

Unseeing.

The world remained ordinary.

Only she was falling apart.

And then the memories came.
Not complete.

Never complete.

Only fragments.

Broken pieces.

Scattered shadows.

A voice.

Angry.
Familiar.

The kind of voice that made a child shrink before a hand was ever raised.

The kind of voice that taught fear long before it taught words.

A mistake.

A small mistake.

Something spilled.

Something broken.Something forgotten.

And suddenly—

anger.

Disappointment.

Humiliation.

A child apologizing before she even understood what she had done wrong.

A child learning that silence was safer.

That being invisible was safer.

That existing quietly hurt less.

Aira's breathing shattered.

The road blurred.

The crowd disappeared.

Past and present collided violently inside her mind.

And somewhere between them—

she stopped knowing where she was.
The plastic packet slipped slightly in her hand.

Not enough to fall.

Just enough to remind her it was still there.

The gift.

Riya.

The orphanage.

Home.

For one brief second, those thoughts tried to pull her back.

Tried to anchor her.

Tried to remind her that she wasn't there anymore.

That she wasn't trapped.
That she wasn't that frightened little child.

But fear does not listen to reason.

Not when it arrives like a storm.

Not when it has been waiting quietly for years.

Aira's vision blurred further.

The world tilted strangely beneath her feet.

Her heartbeat was everywhere.
Inside her ears.

Inside her throat.

Inside her chest.

Loud.

Relentless.

Terrifying.

She took a breath.

It wasn't enough.

Another.

Still not enough.

Air felt distant somehow.
As though it belonged to everyone else.

Not her.

The voices around her became louder.
Then louder.

Then impossible to separate.

A hundred sounds crashing together.
People talking.

Vehicles moving.

Footsteps.

Laughter.

Horns.

Everything pressing against her at once.

Too much.

Too much.

Too much.

A small movement twitched at her lips.

She spoke, but no sound came.
Broken.

"Please..."

Her throat tightened, swallowing the word whole.

No one heard it.The silence around her remained heavy and unbroken.

Another breath.

Another failed attempt.

Then another.

Her knees gave way.
The fall wasn't dramatic.

There was no scream.

No cry.

No warning.

One moment she was standing.

The next...

she wasn't.

Her knees struck the road first.

A sharp sting spread through them.

She didn't feel it.

Her hands hit the ground.

The packet crumpled beneath her fingers.

She barely noticed.

Around her, people slowed.

Some stopped.

Others turned.

Confusion spread through the crowd.

A little girl sat in the middle of the road.

Trembling.

Breathing as if she'd forgotten how.

Hands flying to her ears.

Eyes squeezed shut.

Body folding into itself.
Trying desperately to disappear.

And still...

the world remained too loud.

Aira pressed her palms harder against her ears.

Hard enough to hurt.

Hard enough to leave marks.

Anything to make it stop.

Anything.

Please.

Please.

Please don't—

The memory surfaced again.

Not clearly.

Never clearly.

Just enough.

A shadow.

A raised voice.

A child flinching before anything even happened.

Waiting.

Always waiting.

For anger.

For punishment.
For something terrible she couldn't prevent.

Her lips moved soundlessly.

Words trapped somewhere between memory and reality.

The crowd couldn't hear them.

But they(Words) were there.

Again and again.

Like a prayer.

Like a plea.

Like an old wound reopening.

Please don't be angry.

Please.

Please.

A vehicle turned onto the road.

Not dangerously fast.

But fast enough.

Fast enough that it mattered.

Someone noticed first.

Their expression changed instantly.

"Arre!"Another voice followed.

"Bacchi!"

(Child.)

A third."Road ke beech mein kya kar rahi hai?"(What's she doing in the middle of the road?)

The driver slammed the brakes.

A violent screech tore through the air.
Tyres dragged against the road.

The sound echoed everywhere.

People jumped back.

Several gasped.

The vehicle stopped only a short distance away.

Close enough.

Far too close.

Yet Aira didn't react.

She didn't even look up.

She remained exactly where she was.

Curled inward.

Lost somewhere nobody else could see.

The crowd grew.

That was what crowds did.

They gathered.
Watched.

Whispered.

Wondered.

But rarely knew what to do.

"Isko kya hua?"

(What's wrong with her?)

"Pata nahi."

(I don't know.)

"Kisi ko bulao."

(Call someone.)

"Family kahan hai?"

(Where's her family?)

Questions spread quickly.

Answers never came.

Because no one knew.

No one understood what they were looking at.

Some people looked concerned.

Others uncomfortable.

A few impatient.

One man took a step forward.

Then stopped.

Uncertain.

A woman crouched slightly.

Then hesitated.
Nobody wanted to make things worse.

Nobody knew how to make them better.

So they stood there.

Watching.

While a child quietly broke apart in front of them.
Minutes seemed to stretch.

The afternoon sun drifted lower.

The noise continued.

Life continued.And in the middle of it all...

Aira sat trembling.

Small shoulders shaking.

Breathing uneven.

Fingers still clutching a crushed packet of bangles.

A goodbye gift she hadn't managed to deliver.

A goodbye she didn't know she was already too late for.

At the orphanage, Riya was still waiting.

One last glance toward the road.

One last hope.

One last minute.

But some goodbyes do not wait for perfect timing.

And some meetings arrive only after a goodbye has already been missed.

Far away, in the middle of a crowded road, a little girl sat trembling beneath the weight of memories she could not understand.

The crowd saw a frightened child.

Nothing more.

A child having a bad day.

A child who needed help.

A child who would eventually be forgotten once the road cleared and life moved on.

But not everyone looked away.

At the edge of the gathering stood a woman.

Watching.

Silent.

Still.

For reasons she herself could not explain, her eyes remained fixed on the girl.

There was nothing remarkable about the scene.

No grand sign.

No miracle.

No voice whispering from the heavens.

Just a frightened child sitting alone in the middle of a crowded road.

And yet...

something felt wrong.

Not the kind of wrong that demanded attention.

The kind that quietly refused to be ignored.

The woman took a step forward.

Then another.

The crowd shifted around her.

People moved aside without thinking.

The distance between them grew smaller.

With every step, the noise of the road seemed to fade.

As though the world itself had fallen strangely quiet.

The child never looked up.

The woman never looked away.

Neither of them knew who the other was.

Neither of them knew that somewhere else, an orphanage gate stood open.

That a goodbye was ending.

And a different story was beginning.

Neither of them knew that this ordinary afternoon would leave marks on their lives that time would never fully erase.

But destiny knew.

And sometimes destiny does not arrive with thunder.

Sometimes it arrives quietly.

Disguised as a stranger.

Standing at the edge of a crowd.

Choosing, for no reason she can explain, to take one step forward.

  ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍒✧˚.⋆

RADHE KRISHNA🌷**

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading! 🤍

This chapter was probably one of the most emotional chapters I've written so far.

Riya's goodbye, Aira's fear, and that unexpected meeting at the end...

Sometimes life changes in a single moment without giving any warning first.

If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote, comment, and follow. Your support genuinely motivates me to keep writing! ✨

And now, a few questions for you:

🌸 If you were in Aira's place, would you have gone back to the orphanage immediately or would you have bought a goodbye gift too?

🌸 What do you think is going through Aira's mind right now?

🌸 Do you think missing a goodbye hurts more than saying one?

I'll be reading all your comments! 🤍

See you in the next chapter. 

Don't forget to comment! I'd genuinely love to know what you thought about this chapter and read all your theories. 👀✨

Take care, stay happy, and loveeeeeeeee youuuuuuuuuuu all bahuttttttttttt saara! 🤍🌸

Byeeeeeeeeee my lovely readers!✨