Days passed.
At first, Zara tried not to think about it too much. She told herself companies needed time. There were many candidates. HR departments were busy. A response would come.
Still, her phone was never far from her.
It sat beside her pillow when she slept. It followed her to the kitchen when she went to help her mother. Even when she stepped outside the house to buy something from the street vendor, the phone stayed in her hand.
Every vibration made her heart jump.
Every silence made it sink.
Each morning followed the same routine.
She would wake up, reach for her phone, and open her email before even sitting up properly. Her eyes scanned the inbox quickly, searching for one particular name.
Nothing.
Then she checked her spam folder.
Still nothing.
After that, she opened WhatsApp.
Mostly group messages. Family prayers. Classmates forwarding job openings that required "three years experience" for entry level roles.
Zara would scroll for a moment, then lock the phone again.
Maybe tomorrow.
Her mother asked almost every morning.
"Any news?"
The question was never harsh. Just curious. Hopeful.
"They said they'll call," Zara replied each time, trying to sound confident.
Her mother would nod slowly, as if accepting that answer for now.
"Just keep praying," she would say.
Zara always nodded.
But the waiting was beginning to feel heavier with each passing day.
One afternoon her phone rang suddenly.
An unknown number.
Zara grabbed it immediately.
"Hello?"
"Good afternoon," a cheerful voice said. "Are you interested in getting an instant loan—"
Zara closed her eyes briefly and ended the call before the woman could finish.
She placed the phone on the bed and stared at it.
For a moment, she had really thought it was them.
Later that evening, Zara sat on the edge of her bed scrolling through Instagram.
She wasn't looking for anything in particular.
Just passing time.
A familiar face appeared on her screen.
A girl from university.
The caption read:
First day at the office. Grateful for new beginnings.
Zara paused.
The girl stood in front of a glass building, smiling confidently in a neat corporate outfit.
The next post was similar.
Another classmate.
Another announcement.
Another "excited to start this new chapter."
Zara locked her phone.
A few seconds later, she unlocked it again.
Maybe she had missed something.
Maybe the email had come.
Her inbox looked exactly the same.
Empty.
From the small table beside the bed, Anita looked up from her books.
"Zara?"
Zara glanced over.
Anita's textbooks were spread across the table. Papers filled with notes surrounded her.
"Hmm?"
"When you start working," Anita said carefully, "will you help me buy the new textbooks for school?"
Zara smiled automatically.
"Of course," she said.
Anita brightened immediately and returned to her reading.
Zara watched her for a moment.
Then she looked down at the phone in her hand.
The screen remained quiet.
Another day passed.
Then another.
By the fourth day, Zara had stopped expecting the notification sound.
But she still checked.
Morning.
Afternoon.
Night.
Just in case.
That afternoon she was sitting on her bed when her phone buzzed suddenly.
An email.
Zara's heart jumped.
She sat up quickly and opened the notification.
The subject line was simple.
Application Update
For a second, she just stared at the screen.
Then she opened it.
"Thank you for your interest in working with us…
Zara sat up straighter, her heart beating faster as she read the line slowly.
Her eyes moved down the screen.
"…but unfortunately, we will not be moving forward with your application"
The words sat there.
Simple.
Final.
Zara stared at the screen.
No anger or even tears.
Just silence.
She read the sentence again.
Then again.
As if the words might change if she looked at them long enough.
But they didn't.
The room felt strangely still.
From the other side of the house, she could hear the television playing faintly. A neighbor's generator hummed somewhere outside.
Life was moving as usual.
But Zara remained seated on the bed, her phone still in her hand.
For days she had imagined this moment.
A call.
A congratulatory email.
Good news.
Instead, it was just a short message telling her she hadn't been chosen.
Slowly, she locked the phone and placed it face down on the bed.
For the first time since leaving the interview, Zara allowed herself to admit something.
She had really believed she would get the job.