📍SCENE: CAMPUS GARDEN – LUNCH BREAK
The sun filtered through tall trees, casting scattered light over the benches. Nidhi sat alone, earbuds in, scrolling her phone — avoiding the world.
From a distance, Ananya and Meher sat on another bench, sharing a sandwich.
Ananya: (watching silently)
"He's going to her."
Meher looked up — following her gaze.
Vihaan was walking hesitantly toward Nidhi.
Ananya:
"You think she'll listen?"
Meher: (flat)
"She won't. Not yet."
Ananya nodded, quietly pulled out her phone… and started typing.
---
🎬 CUT TO: VIHAAN & NIDHI
Vihaan: (gentle)
"Hey… can we talk?"
Nidhi didn't look up.
Nidhi: (sharp)
"Didn't expect you to show your face again."
Vihaan:
"I just… need a minute. Please."
She finally glanced at him — her eyes cold.
Nidhi:
"One minute to say what? That it wasn't what it looked like? That you didn't—?"
Her voice cracked but didn't break.
Vihaan: (softly)
"I know what you think you saw… but it's not the truth."
Nidhi: (cutting him off)
"I was there. I saw everything."
She stood, looking straight into his eyes.
"And I can't forgive that."
She walked away — fast, tight steps. No turning back.
---
đź’¬ CUT BACK TO: ANANYA'S PHONE SCREEN
A message is typed:
To: Vihaan
"I saw. I know you tried. Give her time. We'll help you."
Meher: (reading over her shoulder)
"That was kind."
Ananya: (serious)
"No… it was needed."
"She misses him… even if she won't say it."
[FLASHBACK BEGINS]
🌙 Hostel Room – A few nights ago
Nidhi sat silently by the window, her phone in hand but untouched. The glow from the corridor barely lit her face.
Ananya lay on her bed, watching in stillness.
Nidhi let out a small sigh — not dramatic, but filled with something unspoken.
Her thumb hovered over a contact. Then she locked the phone.
That quiet pain… that look…
Ananya (in thought):
That wasn't hatred. That was heartbreak.
[FLASHBACK ENDS]
Back in the present, Ananya's expression tightened with resolve.
Ananya (softly):
"She doesn't want to admit it. But she needs him."
Meher nodded.
"Then let's make sure she sees what she's missing — before it's too late."
Next day
The restaurant was glowing with warmth and comfort.
Laughter rang from all corners. Nidhi was halfway through her second plate, grinning from ear to ear.
Meher sipped her juice, calm as ever, while Ananya listened quietly, soaking in the moment — their first real break since college began.
They talked about food, professors, the Freshers party — anything and everything.
But then, something shifted.
Across the room, Ananya noticed a mother gently feeding her baby.
The baby giggled, trying to grab the spoon.
The mother smiled, tired but full of love.
Ananya's smile faded. Her thoughts slipped away from the noise around her.
She was back in that small drawing room, years ago. Rain outside. The air smelled of old wood and dust. She was sitting with the man she called "uncle," but not by blood.
That day, he had looked at her differently — not as a guardian, but as someone burdened with a truth.
"Ananya," he began gently, "there's something I never told you."
Her eyes had searched his face. "About my parents?"
He nodded slowly. "I wasn't related to your mother. I didn't even know her. That night… she came to me out of nowhere. I was just leaving the hospital after visiting a friend. It was raining heavily."
His voice trembled. "She appeared at the entrance, barefoot, holding you in her arms. Her clothes were soaked in blood, her steps uneven. She looked… broken. But her arms around you were firm."
Ananya's heart pounded.
"She walked up to me, a stranger, and fell to her knees. I rushed to hold her, but she didn't ask for help for herself. She just kept whispering, 'Please… take her. Keep her safe. Protect her. She is a diamond… she must be protected.'"
His voice cracked as he stared at the floor.
"She wasn't even asking me to save her life. Just yours. That was all she cared about."
Ananya's hands trembled in her lap. "And then…?"
"She pushed you into my arms. I tried to ask questions, to help her… but suddenly the power went out. The hospital went dark. I couldn't see her. And when the lights came back…"
He paused, swallowing back the emotion.
"She was gone."
"Gone?" Ananya whispered.
"All that remained were her bloody footprints on the floor. A trail… leading to the empty hallway. She must've walked away… to die alone."
Tears welled in Ananya's eyes. She could barely breathe.
"I wasn't even anyone to her, Ananya. Just someone she trusted in her last moment. But I couldn't ignore it. I took you home. And when your aunt saw you, she didn't even question it. She just held you and said, 'We'll take care of her.'"
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small cloth bundle.
"This was with you. She gave it to me before the lights went out."
Ananya unwrapped it. Inside was a strange puzzle piece — old, carved with symbols she couldn't understand.
"She said you'd understand one day. That it was meant for you."
Back in the restaurant, the sound returned.
Nidhi was laughing again. Meher was looking at her with soft concern.
But Ananya sat still — a storm quietly rising in her heart.
A stranger had saved her.
A mother had died for her.
And a puzzle — forgotten until now — was waiting to be solved.
Ananya blinked quickly, wiping the corner of her eye before the tears could fall. She straightened in her seat and forced a small smile as Meher nudged her arm gently.
"You okay?" Meher asked softly, reading the shift in her face.
"Yeah," Ananya replied, voice steady. "Just zoned out for a second."
Nidhi leaned over with a grin. "I bet you were daydreaming about dessert. Wait till you try the jalebi here. It's crispy magic!"
Ananya laughed, light and brief — enough to hide the storm inside.
But her mind was still holding onto that night.
To her mother's bleeding feet…
To a stranger's compassion…
To the puzzle wrapped in mystery and love.
She didn't tell them.
Not now.
Not yet.
Some things were too heavy to share — even with the people closest to her.
Some things needed silence.
So she smiled, picked up her spoon, and joined in the laughter again.
But deep inside, she knew something had just changed.
The past wasn't done with her.
Not yet.