📅 Last Week of September – Devgarh & Nandanpur
Empty Benches
By the fourth week of rain, Devgarh High School looked half-deserted. Puddles claimed the courtyard, paint peeled from the walls, and teachers hurried through lessons, anxious to get home before the roads drowned.
Entire rows of desks sat empty. The Nandanpur children came only when the skies softened enough for bicycles and scooters to pass. Most days, their benches stayed bare.
When Ishanvi arrived one morning, scarf dripping, shoes caked with mud, the room fell quiet. Even soaked to the bone, she looked steady, unbothered. To Simran, it was almost unnatural — as if the storm bent for her instead of against her.
Rehana nudged Simran to stop staring, but the thought clung: They keep coming through the flood, when others don't. Why?
The River's Edge
That evening, Sudarshini pressed higher against its banks, foaming wild under the swollen sky. Abhay stood near the waterline, his breath misting in the chill air.
The roar wasn't just sound anymore. It carried rhythm, words twined in the rush:
"Bracelet… flood… choose…"
His pulse faltered. He clutched his wrist where the water had once circled him, and for a moment, the river seemed to tug at him like a tether.
Was it warning him? Or claiming him?
Simran's Notes
In Devgarh, rain hammered the tiled roofs as Simran bent over her notebook. She wrote quickly, her handwriting jagged:
Abhay → bracelet of water
Ishanvi → heat, fire, puddle vanished
Not normal. Not accident.
Her fingers trembled, smudging the ink. She snapped the book shut and pressed it to her chest.
Outside, thunder shook the village, but her fear whispered louder: If the river rises again, they won't be able to hide.