The sun was hidden behind thick clouds, casting a dull grey light over the city.
At home, Aaradhya sat by the window again, scribbling into her notebook. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but her mind wouldn't slow down.
Amit wandered into the room, yawning.
"Hey… tea?" he mumbled.
"Make it yourself," she replied, not lifting her head.
He groaned and shuffled off. Aaradhya didn't look up. Her pen kept moving, even as her gaze drifted to the sky outside—low, grey, and silent.
Later, she went out to the market.
Near the bakery, she paused.
Two girls were standing outside, giggling and whispering behind their hands.
Bishaka Choudhary. Chitra Das.
Her classmates. Her bullies.
Aaradhya froze, heart thudding. Her grip on the bag strap tightened.
They hadn't seen her yet.
They were too busy with their chatter—just like always.
In school, they were the loud ones. The cruel ones. The ones who laughed when she stumbled. Whispered when she walked past. Pointed. Mocked.
And always trailing behind them… was Ishita Basu.
The principal's daughter. The quiet one. The one who never spoke up but never stopped them either.
Aaradhya stared at the space between the two girls.
Ishita wasn't there.
Not anymore.
She reached for her phone and checked the news again.
Missing. Still no sign.
She looked away from the girls and kept walking.
"I hate them," she muttered under her breath.
But it wasn't just hate. It was something deeper. A wound that never healed. A silence that had always followed her. The kind of pain that never made a sound.
She didn't tell Amit. Not about the girls. Not about Ishita. Not about what it reminded her of.
Instead, she finished shopping—books, vegetables, a packet of biscuits, a small new dress for herself.
She returned home, unpacked the bags, and slipped back into her quiet routine.
She didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
But long ago, in the silence of an empty dorm room, Aaradhya had made a promise—
She would never be helpless again.