9 PM…Aditya’s Office
The sound of Aditya’s sharp voice echoed across the parking area. He was scolding someone — a rare sight in itself. And the person at the receiving end stood with her lips pushed into a sulky pout, looking no less than a child who had just been denied her favorite toy. After all, it was almost unheard of for Aditya to raise his voice at her.
From behind, Anamika approached, her footsteps light but her eyes focused on him. Watching him scold with such seriousness, she stepped closer and gently interjected, “Let it go, Aditya… it was just a mistake.”
Aditya turned, inhaled deeply, and released a heavy sigh before replying, “Mistake or not, you should be scolding her — not shielding her.”
Behind Anamika, Ira flinched at his words. Her wide eyes darted nervously toward her brother’s stern face. When his fiery gaze met hers, she immediately shrank back and hid behind Anamika’s shoulder, as if that was her safest fortress.
Aditya, unable to believe her behavior, shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Why do you always do this, Ira…?”
With measured steps, he moved past Anamika and approached Ira directly. Seeing him come closer, Ira instinctively stepped back, but he caught her hand gently, his grip firm yet protective. His voice softened as he said, “Show me… where did you get hurt?”
Ira blinked up at him with innocent eyes and carefully revealed the faint scratches on her right hand and ankle. At once, Aditya’s hardened expression melted away, replaced by concern.
Looking down at her, his voice became tender, almost brotherly, “Come on, let’s go to my cabin. I’ll put medicine on this. And remember — never touch my bike again without permission, not until I’ve taught you how to ride it properly and until you actually get a license.”
Lowering her gaze like a child who had just been scolded, Ira mumbled softly, “Okay, brother…”
With that, Aditya held her hand and started to lead her away. Ira followed obediently, her steps small and meek. But like the mischievous little sister she was, she reached out and tugged Anamika’s hand as well, dragging her along with them — making Anamika part of this unexpected little procession.
One storm had just settled here.
But in another corner of the city, inside Saaniya’s heart, a very different kind of storm was quietly raging — one she was desperately trying not to let show on her face.
She sat alone on a wooden bench in the hospital garden. Her long shift was finally over. The night was silent, the kind of silence that pressed heavily on one’s chest.
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Above her, the sky stretched wide — sprinkled with countless sparkling stars. But tonight, there was no moon.
The heavens still looked beautiful, but without the moon, there was a strange emptiness, like a smile missing its warmth.
Head tilted back, eyes closed, Saaniya let herself breathe in that silence. For a moment, she wanted to forget the world and just melt into the night air. But then… she heard it. The faint sound of footsteps approaching.
Without even opening her eyes, she spoke, her voice calm yet edged with annoyance, “You’re here again… Why, Aniket? What do you want from me?”
Aniket didn’t answer her question directly. He simply came closer, sat down beside her on the bench, and gazed up at the same sky she had been admiring. His tone was soft, almost thoughtful, “The sky looks empty without the moon.”
Saaniya’s eyes snapped open. She turned to him with irritation and said, “Is that supposed to be an answer to my question? If it is, then let me tell you — I don’t like it.”
Stretching his arms lazily as though he owned the place, Aniket let out a playful groan, “I worked so hard today… you have no idea.”
She shot him a sideways glare and snapped, “Why are you telling me this? Did I ever ask you to volunteer yourself as the free labor around here?”
Aniket’s lips curved into a pout, and he turned toward her with mock hurt.
“You’re so rude! You can’t keep this up. If you stay this rude, how will our friendship ever work?”
“Friendship?” Saaniya almost scoffed, her tone calm yet hollow, “There’s no vacancy for friends in my life.”
That made Aniket chuckle. He tilted his head toward her, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“There may not be a vacancy for friends right now… but there are plenty of vacancies in your life. I’m just not qualified yet. When I am, maybe then I’ll apply.”
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
With exaggerated seriousness, Aniket leaned back and replied, “I mean, I don’t have the experience yet. Once I gain some, then I’ll apply properly.”
That only irritated her further. She crossed her arms and said sharply, “I don’t need second-hand things.”
He blinked at her in confusion. “Second-hand things? When did I say I was selling second-hand stuff?”
Her annoyance faltered slightly, replaced by curiosity. “Then… what were you talking about?”
A teasing grin spread across his face.
“Mentorship. I don’t have any experience dealing with arrogant girls like you yet. Once I learn how to handle you a little, then maybe I can mentor you — teach you how to talk to people properly, how to socialize without glaring them into silence.”
That did it. Saaniya’s face turned crimson with fury. Not only had he called her arrogant, but he had dared to say she needed lessons in how to deal with people! And on top of that, what she had assumed he meant was completely wrong. The embarrassment mixed with anger until her entire expression burned red.
She shot up from the bench, her fists clenched.
“I’d rather make a donkey my mentor than you!”
Aniket rose to his feet too, his grin widening with every word she spat.
“So your behavior’s gotten so bad that even a donkey’s mentorship would be enough to fix it?”
Grinding her teeth, she hissed, “You… I’ll—”
But he stepped closer, closing the distance between them until his presence loomed right in front of her. For a heartbeat, the playful mischief in his eyes softened into something else.
Looking directly into hers, he said quietly, “This red, angry face of yours… it suits you more than anything else.”
And then, without waiting for her response, he slipped his hands into his pockets and walked away, a mischievous, almost boyish smile dancing across his lips.
Saaniya stood frozen, her chest rising and falling with anger and something she couldn’t quite name. Confusion twisted in her thoughts. Finally, she muttered under her breath, “Stupid jerk…”
At the same moment, in another place, the exact same word slipped from Ruhi’s mouth as well.
She was glaring at her phone, her fingers tightening around it. On the screen glowed a string of filthy messages from an unknown number. Her lips pressed thin with rage.
She tried calling the number back, but no one picked up. The silence on the other end only fueled her anger.
Enough was enough. She had already made up her mind — this time, she would go to the police. She grabbed her bag and began preparing to leave the office.
Meanwhile“Tonight too… I’ll leave at the same time as yesterday,” he murmured to himself, “so I can pick Ruhi up on the way. She keeps leaving so late, alone, even when she knows someone out there is trying to hurt her…”
He believed she would be late, just like the night before. But Ruhi was already stepping out.
Outside her office, hidden in the shadows of a narrow alley, a man stood still. A mask covered his face, a wide hat shadowed his features. His gaze never shifted from the office exit door, waiting… waiting for someone.
