The night was silent.

Too silent.

Rain tapped softly against the tall glass windows of the mansion, as if trying to remind the people inside that the world outside still existed.

Aarohia woke up with a sharp gasp.

Her heart was racing.

Her fingers clenched the bedsheet as if she was still running.

Running away.

She turned her head.

On the other side of the massive bed, Siyara sat upright too—her breath uneven, eyes dark, unfocused.

Same nightmare.

Again.

Neither of them spoke.

They never did.

Silence had been their safest language for years.

Aarohia finally broke it, her voice low.

“Same?”

Siyara nodded slowly.

“Orphanage… gate… footsteps,” she said quietly.

“And screaming.”

Aarohia looked away toward the window.

“It never changes,” she whispered.

“No matter how far we run.”

For a few seconds, the past hovered in the room like a ghost.

Then Siyara stood up.

“Morning shift hai. Late ho jayenge.”

Just like that—walls were back up.

Morning – Hotel Lobby

The hotel lobby looked flawless.

Polished marble floors.

Soft instrumental music.

Guests checking in with smiles.

And behind the reception desk stood Aarohia—calm, professional, unreadable.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome back,” she said politely.

The businessman—tall, sharp-eyed, expensive suit—gave her a small nod.

“Same room.”

“Of course.”

Their eyes met for a brief second.

Something flickered.

Recognition?

Suspicion?

Gone before it could be named.

Behind Aarohia, Riya leaned closer.

“Woh businessman har baar tumhare counter pe hi aata hai,” she whispered teasingly.

“Tumhari fan following dangerous ho rahi hai, Miss Receptionist.”

Aarohia didn’t smile.

“Work pe focus karo, Riya.”

Riya rolled her eyes.

Across the lobby, Anita watched them—her lips tightening.

She hated how easily people trusted Aarohia.

How managers praised her.

How guests remembered her name.

And how secrets seemed to cling to her like shadows.

Hospital – Day Shift

Saira moved through the hospital corridors with quiet authority.

Nurses listened.

Junior doctors followed instructions without question.

Megha, however, didn’t hide her bitterness.

“Senior nurse banna itni jaldi… kuch zyada fast nahi tha?” Megha muttered loudly enough.

Saira stopped.

Turned.

Looked straight at her.

No anger.

No explanation.

Just a calm, piercing stare.

“Kaam pe dhyaan do, Megha,” Saira said softly.

“Gossip se patients heal nahi hote.”

Megha clenched her fists.

She smiled—but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Flashback – Orphanage (Night)

Dark corridor.

Locked doors.

Little girls huddled together.

A younger Aarohia grabbed Siyara’s hand.

“Aaj nahi bhage toh… kabhi nahi bhag payenge,” she whispered.

Footsteps.

Keys.

Men laughing.

They ran.

Bare feet on gravel.

Blood.

Fear.

Saira tripped.

Aarohia pulled her up.

“Girne ka time nahi hai,” she said fiercely.

“Bas bhaag.”

Hotel – Evening

Riya stood near the back entrance, laughing into her phone.

Aarohia noticed.

She always noticed.

The way Riya’s smile was forced.

The way she hid her phone screen.

Later, in the staff room—

“Tumhara boyfriend… city ke bahar tha na?” Aarohia asked casually.

Riya froze.

“Haan… kyun?”

Aarohia met her eyes.

“Kyuki maine usey aaj yahin dekha.”

Silence.

Then laughter.

“Wow,” Riya scoffed.

“Tum bhi na… thodi insecure ho.”

“Main jealous nahi hoon,” Aarohia said calmly.

“Main sirf jhoot pe react karti hoon.”

Riya’s smile faded.

“Stay out of my personal life,” she snapped.

“Tumhe lagta hai sab tumhari tarah perfect hain?”

That was the moment something cracked.

Anita, standing outside, heard everything.

And smiled.

Hospital – Night Shift

Megha slipped into the storage room.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out a small packet hidden behind medical supplies.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

“Kaam ho raha hai?” a male voice asked.

Megha swallowed.

“Haan… par Siyara…”

“Usse door rakho,” the voice warned.

“Woh sirf nurse nahi hai.”

Megha’s eyes widened.

Mansion – Night

Aarohia stood on the balcony, staring at the city lights.

Saira joined her.

“Riya se fight ho gayi?” Saira asked quietly.

Aarohia nodded.

“Log sach sunna nahi chahte,” she said.

“Unhe sirf wahi chahiye jo unke comfort ko suit kare.”

Saira smirked faintly.

“Isliye hum chup rehte hain.”

Thunder echoed.

Somewhere in the city, secrets were moving.

Watching.

Waiting.

And neither Aarohia nor Saira knew—the calm they had built so carefully was already beginning to collapse.

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