Chapter 1:-The quiet Girl
Aarohi was the kind of girl people noticed only after she had left the room.
Not because she wasn't beautiful—she was, in a soft, unannounced way—but because she didn't demand attention. She walked with her eyes lowered, spoke when necessary, smiled politely, and kept her emotions folded neatly inside her like pressed flowers between book pages.
She lived in the city of Amritsar, where noise was constant—temple bells, traffic horns, laughter, arguments, life spilling everywhere. Yet Aarohi's world was quiet. She worked at a small publishing house near Lawrence Road, editing manuscripts written by people brave enough to tell their stories aloud.
Ironically, she had never told her own.
Every morning, she took the same bus at 8:15 AM. Same seat. Same window. Same route. It was her ritual—one of the few things in her life that felt predictable. She liked predictability. It didn't leave room for disappointment.
Until one morning, someone sat beside her