The corridor felt longer than usual.
Or maybe…
Sarthak just wasn't walking the same way anymore.
"You are still pretending… just like that day."
The words kept repeating in his mind like a broken loop.
Annoying.
Persistent.
Dangerous.
"Sarthak!"
Vansh's voice snapped him back.
"You have been silent since lunch. Did you finally realize you are bad at studies?"
Sarthak glanced at him. "I always knew that."
"Yeah, right." Vansh smirked. "One day you will slip up."
Slip up.
Sarthak almost laughed.
If only Vansh knew…
He had already slipped once.
And that was enough to ruin everything.
The classroom was half-filled when they entered.
Students chatting. Some scrolling. Some pretending to study.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Sarthak walked to his seat and sat down quietly.
He placed his phone on the desk.
Screen down.
As if avoiding it.
As if it might speak again.
"Still ignoring reality?"
A voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
Dangerous in its own way.
Sarthak froze.
Just for a second.
Then he looked up.
She was standing there.
Mahi Sharma.
Same as always—
Calm eyes.
Gentle expression.
And a gaze that saw too much.
She pulled the chair beside him and sat down without asking.
Vansh raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I am invisible now?"
Mahi smiled slightly. "You always were."
"Rude."
But he laughed anyway and turned away, giving them space without making it obvious.
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Mahi looked at Sarthak.
Not casually.
Not curiously.
But… knowingly.
"You got a message, didn't you?"
Sarthak's fingers tightened slightly under the desk.
"…What makes you think that?"
Mahi did not look away.
"You do that thing."
"What thing?"
"When something bothers you… you act even more normal than usual."
A pause.
"…You are imagining things," he said calmly.
Mahi smiled.
But there was no amusement in it.
"Am I?"
For a moment—
Neither of them spoke.
But the air between them said everything.
"You should not ignore it," she said softly.
That was enough.
Sarthak turned to her, his eyes slightly sharper now.
"And you should not interfere."
The words were cold.
Direct.
Unlike him.
Vansh glanced at them, sensing the shift.
But Mahi—
She did not flinch.
Instead, she leaned slightly closer.
Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper.
"How long are you going to keep punishing yourself?"
Silence.
That sentence—
It hit deeper than it should have.
Because it was true.
And he hated that.
"I am not punishing myself," Sarthak replied, his tone controlled.
"I am just living normally."
Mahi's eyes softened.
"That is not normal."
For a moment—
Something flickered in Sarthak's expression.
Something fragile.
Something human.
And then—
It disappeared.
"You should focus on your own life," he said, looking away.
Mahi watched him quietly.
"…I am," she replied.
A pause.
Then—
"You are part of it."
Sarthak did not respond.
Because he did not know how to.
The professor entered the class, breaking the tension.
Students settled down.
Books opened.
Voices faded.
But Sarthak's mind—
Was far from the classroom.
A memory.
Faint.
Blurred.
But still there.
Rain.
A girl standing at the edge.
Her hands trembling.
Her voice breaking.
"Why didn't you come earlier…?"
Sarthak shut his eyes for a brief second.
"Hey…"
Mahi's voice again.
Soft.
Careful.
"Look at me."
He did.
And for the first time—
There was no pretense in his eyes.
Just exhaustion.
"If it is about that day…" she continued, hesitating slightly, "then you are not the only one who remembers."
That made his breath pause.
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
Mahi held his gaze.
And said—
"I was there too."
Silence.
Everything stopped.
Because that—
Changed everything.
Before he could respond—
A vibration.
His phone.
Both of them looked at it.
Slowly—
Sarthak picked it up.
Unknown Number.
Again.
He opened the message.
And this time—
Mahi saw it too.
"So she finally told you…"
Sarthak's eyes widened slightly.
"But tell me…"
His grip tightened.
"Will she tell you the whole truth?"
The air turned cold.
Mahi's expression changed.
For the first time—
There was fear.
Sarthak slowly looked at her.
"…What are you hiding?"
No answer.
Just silence.
And in that silence—
Something broke.
To be continued…