As she ended the call, her gaze drifted to the puzzle resting on her desk. Her fingers traced the edges out of habit. Sometimes, it felt like the pieces slid into place effortlessly, as though her hands remembered something her mind could not. But other times, it was like the puzzle was alive—taunting her, slipping away when she was closest to the answer. Why was it like this?
She stared at it, thoughts drifting. Could it truly be connected to her parents? Maybe solving it was the key to understanding who they were—or who she was meant to be.
Then something clicked in her mind. A memory. A feeling. The light. There was something about the way sunlight touched the pieces at a certain time. Not just any sunlight—but the one that appears in the in-between, when the day kisses the night. Twilight.
That was when the puzzle felt different—like it breathed. As if time itself paused for a moment, offering her a chance to see what was hidden. She turned the puzzle in her hands again, instinctively, chasing that fleeting thought. So close—but not quite.
Just then, the door creaked open. Meher stepped inside, calm and composed as always. Her presence brought with it a quiet stillness that settled the air. She smiled gently at Ananya, who sat with the puzzle in her lap.
"Still working on that puzzle?" Meher asked, her voice soft.
Ananya didn't respond at first. She was too focused on the memory that had brushed her mind. Meher leaned against the doorframe, watching her thoughtfully.
After a pause, she asked, almost knowingly, "You think it's tied to the sunlight, don't you?"
Ananya blinked and looked up, meeting Meher's eyes. Something flickered in her expression—part realization, part vulnerability.
"I think it's connected to the time when day and night meet," she said slowly. "Twilight. The light feels… different then. Like it's meant to be solved in that moment, when everything hangs between two worlds."
She paused, gently brushing a thumb over the puzzle's surface. "But sometimes, no matter how hard I try, it just… doesn't work. The pieces fall apart, and I'm left with nothing. Like it only reveals itself when it wants to."
Meher said nothing. She simply listened, her gaze steady, her presence reassuring. She knew better than to interrupt.
Ananya leaned back in her chair, eyes still on the puzzle. It was more than just a riddle—it was a memory, a message, maybe even a destiny. She didn't know why she was so sure. But with Meher here, with the sunlight streaming just right, it felt like she was closer than ever.
Meher's voice broke the silence gently. "Let things unfold naturally."
Ananya nodded, but something tugged at her heart. A brief pang of sadness. Not because she had to wait for answers—but because she had let her thoughts wander to her parents while Meher was there. It felt too raw, too exposed.
Even though Meher had always been kind, always understanding, Ananya wasn't used to sharing that part of herself. It had always been safer to keep it buried. But maybe… not anymore.
The quiet atmosphere pressed in on her as she glanced out the window. The fading sunlight cast long, golden streaks across the floor, and the stillness made her feel the weight of time more acutely.
Ananya felt something stir inside her—a quiet resolve to steady herself. She sat up straighter, pushing away the lingering sadness.
After a brief silence, she turned to Meher, her expression calmer now.
"You know what?" she said, her voice steady. "Let's take a walk. Explore the hostel a bit. It might help us clear our heads."
The words felt right. It wasn't just a distraction—it was a step forward. A way to shift her focus and regain control.
Meher nodded, her calm presence unwavering. "Alright. Let's go."