In the silent hospital room, the sharp smell of antiseptic clouded my senses. The lifeless beep of the machines was a constant reminder that time was slipping through my fingers. My mother lay on the white bed, a mere shadow of herself, her life slowly fading.
Her pale face, sunken eyes, and the faint smile resting on her lips said more than words ever could. The tears spilling from her eyes pierced my soul, drawing me into a quiet sorrow. Her trembling hands gently touched my cheeks—soft, light, and full of everything she couldn't express.
I leaned closer. Her breaths were short, struggling to hold on just a moment longer. But even in the midst of her pain, there was a strange sparkle in her eyes—a dream left unfinished. Her lips parted slightly, and a weak whisper reached my ears:
"Son… take care of your sister…"
For a fleeting moment, a gentle smile played on her lips—a smile that said everything. Then, as if time itself exhaled, everything came to a halt.
My lips parted, but no words came. My heart sank under the weight of an unfamiliar sorrow. Only one word escaped: "Ma…"
And then… silence.
Suddenly, my eyes snapped open.
My breathing was heavy, sweat clung to my forehead, and my heart pounded in my chest. The room was still dark, but the soft yellow light creeping through the window signaled that morning was near.
I whispered something—anything—to push the feeling of dread away. Reaching for my phone... 5:30 AM. I had almost forgotten what waking up this early felt like.
I dragged myself out of bed, hoping to lift the weight pressing down on my chest.
The house was still. The usual silence greeted me. Everything sat as it always had, but today, the air felt different—like the night had left behind a story, still hidden in the walls. I moved through my routine—cleaning a bit, then freshening up. The sound of tea boiling and the warm scent of toast brought an odd sense of peace to the morning.
Everything is set. I'm ready, but Anya is still asleep.
"Anya, wake up, breakfast is ready," I call out, a bit louder. Last night, she had been completely lost in her books.
No response.
A flicker of worry tightens my chest. I walk toward her room, my steps slow, cautious. As I gently push the door open, the scene inside unfolds—Anya slumped over her study table, fast asleep. Books scattered around her, a pen dangling from the edge of the table, almost touching the floor. Her hand still rested on an open page—as if sleep had stolen her away in the middle of writing.
I just stand there for a moment, watching her.
I don't want to wake her, but if she keeps sleeping like this, she'll miss her tuition—and she has a test today.
I take a deep breath and gently, but firmly, wake her up.
Ayaan is only 21, but the weight of responsibility on his shoulders feels far heavier than his age should bear. He lives in a small rented house, with a sister who means more to him than the entire world. Their story has been written in shadows of pain and loneliness since childhood. There was a day, long ago, when their father left without a word, vanishing like mist into thin air. Their mother was there, but sick—so sick that one day, death took away her suffering... leaving Ayaan and Anya with nothing but each other.
Now, Ayaan works as non-technical staff in a hospital. In that sterile building of white walls, he's known only as a clinical sample delivery boy. From lab to ward, from ward to the operation theatre—he runs all day, carrying files and test samples. He earns just 17,000 rupees a month, but every rupee has a purpose: paying rent and covering Anya's tuition fees.
Anya is a cheerful, confident 17-year-old with a small scar on her face—a lingering reminder of a wound given by their father in childhood. At just 5'1, her dream-filled eyes and ever-smiling face paint a picture of innocence. It's as though she's built her own little world in the middle of a sea of sorrow. She loves long skirts and simple salwar suits, wearing them with an innocent charm. But that innocence is only skin-deep. Beneath it, she's fighting a battle of her own.
Anya dreams of becoming a doctor. She's preparing for NEET, hoping to make life easier for Ayaan.
For Ayaan, the world is a place where living is a compulsion.
For Anya, it's a dream she's determined to fulfill—no matter what.
Ayaan stands at 5'9", slender with long, messy black hair—so tangled it gives him the look of a lost Tarzan among the city crowd. He doesn't care much for fashion, but he seems oddly attached to black—black shirts, black pants, black shoes. A monotone, perhaps an attempt to mask the emptiness within.
As he walks through the sterile, white corridors of the hospital, a wave of loneliness washes over him. He reaches his department and sits in front of an old computer. The soft clicking of the keyboard breaks the silence. Patient files and new data entries pop up on the screen, but today, his mind is elsewhere.
"Man, when is Priyanshi ma'am going to show up?"
His thoughts are more consumed by Priyanshi than by his work. She's a 24-year-old independent woman, carrying quiet grace and unshakable confidence. Her self-assurance, her smile, the way she commands respect—it's all made her the object of admiration from everyone at the hospital. Ayaan, too, is just one among the many, hopelessly drawn to her.
He's always liked Priyanshi—maybe even loved her—but as an introvert, he's never had the courage to say it. Every time he sees her, his heart races, his palms sweat, but his lips remain silent.
"I wish I could tell her how special she is to me…" But time is running out.
Two days ago, a message had popped up on the hospital's WhatsApp group:
"Priyanshi ma'am is resigning today. She's joining another company."
Since then, a storm has been brewing inside Ayaan. If he doesn't speak up today, he might never get the chance.
Today, he's made up his mind—he will confess his feelings to Priyanshi, no matter what.
Ayaan was typing away at the keyboard, his eyes on the screen but his mind far from it. No matter how much he tried to focus, one thought kept circling in his head—Priyanshi.
Suddenly—Thud!
A sharp smack landed on his back.
"Ahh!" Ayaan winced, jerking upright. "What the hell, you idiot?!"
Behind him stood Roshit, grinning wide. His long upright hair looked like it had been electrocuted on purpose. Varun stood beside him, arms crossed, trying to hold back laughter.
"What were you thinking about?" Roshit teased with a wink. "Don't tell me Priyanshi ma'am broke your heart already."
Ayaan managed a faint smile, but his eyes told a different story. "Nah... Just not in the mood to work."
Varun perked up. "Then let's go party after shift!"
Ayaan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can't. Laundry, cooking, helping Anya study—she's got a test tomorrow."
"Bro, you've gone full family man," Roshit laughed, dragging over a chair.
"We haven't chilled in ages," he added. "Come on, we'll make a plan."
"I would," Ayaan said, "but I'm broke right now. Maybe next month."
Varun clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Forget money. Just show up—we've got you."
Ayaan chuckled. "Nah, I can't come empty-handed. Seriously, next month."
"Alright, alright," Roshit said, hands up in surrender.
As the two turned to leave, Ayaan suddenly called out, "Wait."
They paused and looked back.
Ayaan took a breath. "You guys know Priyanshi ma'am's leaving today, right?"
"Yeah, everyone knows," Varun said casually.
Ayaan nodded, staring at the floor. "I've been thinking... maybe I should tell her. You know—how I feel."
"WHAT?" both of them blurted out in sync.
Varun stepped forward, raising an eyebrow. "You serious? Priyanshi? Bro, she's smart, classy, confident... You really think she'd say yes?"
Ayaan's eyes narrowed, but he stayed quiet.
Roshit stepped in, voice steady. "Hey, this is your moment. You miss this, you might never get another. Who knows—maybe she feels the same."
Something shifted in Ayaan. He clenched his fist softly, a bit of color rising in his cheeks. "Yeah… I'll do it. I have to."
Then he shot Varun a sharp look. "Didn't expect you to try and pull me down like that."
Roshit grinned. "What does he know about love? He's just horny 24/7."
"Hey!" Varun snapped, lunging at Roshit with mock outrage, grabbing him by the neck. "Watch your mouth!"
"Okay, okay, cool it," Ayaan said, trying to hold in a laugh. "Stop acting like kids."
Roshit suddenly turned serious. "By the way, Priyanshi's already here. So... when are you going to do it?"
"I thought maybe on my way home."
"Nope," Varun cut in. "She's leaving after the farewell party—half-day. Better say it before that."
Ayaan looked nervous. He twirled the pen in his fingers. "But how? She's always surrounded by people…"
Varun exchanged a glance with Roshit, then leaned in.
"Go to the storeroom. Nobody's ever there. Pretend you're looking for something. I'll send Priyanshi to help you. You'll have a minute alone."
Ayaan's heart pounded. His throat was dry. But a shy smile crept onto his face.
"You think I can actually do this?"
"Stop overthinking," Roshit said. "Just go. We'll handle the rest."
Taking a deep breath, Ayaan nodded and walked toward the storeroom. With every step, his heartbeat grew louder.
Once he disappeared, Varun glanced at Roshit.
"You think he'll actually say it?"
Roshit snorted. "Please. I'd bet money he chickens out."
Still laughing, they returned to their desks, sample tubes waiting in front of them. But the grins on their faces didn't fade.
(20 minutes later)
Feeling bored, Ayaan pulled out his phone and dialed Varun's number.
Tring-tring… tring-tring… The phone kept ringing, but no one picked up.
He hung up in frustration. "Why isn't Varun answering? Did something happen in the department?"
His heartbeat quickened. "If the manager finds out, this could turn into a big problem. I need to get back—now."
He hurried toward the storeroom door, his footsteps echoing in the narrow space. But just then…
A faint noise—footsteps, maybe—reached his ears. He froze. The storeroom was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the racks and boxes. Someone was definitely approaching.
Ayaan didn't pay much attention at first, but as the person passed by him, a sweet fragrance lingered in the air.
This scent… it's hers…
Without thinking, Ayaan turned around.
"Ayaan, you're here?"
For a moment, time stood still. His heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught in his throat.
Her flowing black hair, deep brown eyes, and a glow that could shame the moon—Priyanshi stood there, effortlessly perfect. Just like always.
Ayaan stood frozen, lost in her eyes.
"Were you looking for something?" she asked gently.
Ayaan, slightly hesitant, replied, "Yeah… a technician was asking for a medium-sized lab coat. I was looking for one but couldn't find it."
Priyanshi smiled. "Oh, is that so? Come on, I'll help you look for it."
Ayaan's heart skipped again. 'She wants to help me? Does that mean… maybe…'
They both began searching different shelves—Ayaan crouched down to check the lower racks while Priyanshi stretched to reach the higher ones.
But Ayaan's focus was nowhere near the shelves.
'How do I tell her? Is this even the right moment?'
Every glance at her only made it harder. She looked beautiful—effortlessly so. Her presence made his chest tighten, his breath falter.
'If I don't say it now... I might never get the chance again.'
He inhaled deeply, heart pounding. "Umm, ma'am…"
Priyanshi turned slightly, smiling gently. "You called me?"
Caught off guard, Ayaan's breath caught. His nerves betrayed him.
"Uh… umm… you look really beautiful today." His voice cracked at the end, and he quickly lowered his gaze, his face burning with embarrassment.
Priyanshi chuckled softly. "Aww, thank you. It's my last day here, so I thought I'd dress up a little."
'Last day.'
The words hit Ayaan like a punch to the chest. He forced a smile onto his face, masking the growing ache inside.
"Yeah, I heard you're leaving… Everyone's going to miss you."
She let out a soft laugh, but it carried a note of melancholy. "I'll miss you guys too. But for my career… I have to keep moving forward, Ayaan."
He nodded, though his throat felt tight. "Where's the new job?"
"I went to Gurgaon for the interview. Since then, I've been doing online training from home. Once it's over, I'll be called to the office, but they haven't finalized the location yet."
So far away... The thought echoed through Ayaan's mind. It felt like she was already drifting out of reach.
Priyanshi turned back to the shelf and pulled something free. "Here it is. Found it!"
Ayaan blinked in surprise. "Wow, ma'am! You're amazing! I searched so long and still couldn't find it."
She smiled and handed him the coat. "I'm not that special," she said with a soft shrug. For a moment, her fingers lingered just slightly longer than necessary.
Then she stepped back, ready to leave.
But something inside Ayaan twisted.
'Say it now. Say something real.'
He clenched his fists and spoke before he could stop himself.
"Ma'am, wait…"
She paused, turning back to him with a gentle, curious look. "Hmm?"
His chest felt like it was closing in. His heart thundered. Every word he wanted to say lined up behind his tongue—but none of them came out the way he imagined.
"I... I'll miss you."
It was barely above a whisper.
The silence that followed was heavy—thick with everything unsaid. Priyanshi stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she smiled. It was soft, sincere… and just a little sad.
She reached forward and lightly tapped his forehead.
"Silly Ayaan," she said quietly. "You always hold back too much."
Ayaan's breath caught. He looked up, meeting her eyes—but she had already turned away.
"If fate allows," she said, pausing at the door, "we'll meet again."
She didn't look back.
Ayaan stood frozen. The lab coat slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. But he didn't move. Couldn't.
'Why didn't I say it? Why didn't I just tell her...?'
The ache inside him grew heavier with each step she took away from him.
Far down the hallway, Priyanshi's pace slowed. She didn't stop, but her fingers briefly clenched by her side.
'I thought he would say it…
I thought… maybe he felt the same.'
She sighed, just softly enough that no one heard.
Back in the storeroom, Ayaan cursed under his breath, barely able to stand the weight of his silence.
All he could do now was let her walk away—and carry the words he couldn't say.
The party was in full swing—laughter echoing from every corner, music blaring through the speakers, joy spilling into every space like light through a broken window. My friends sat beside me, chatting freely with Priyanshi. Their voices danced between jokes and stories, carried by easy laughter.
I just sat there quietly, staring into my glass like it held all the words I couldn't say. The ice had melted, just like the moment I missed.
With every passing minute, a new question stirred inside me—rising, lingering… then fading away. As if someone had muted me in the middle of my own story.
Eventually, the party began to fade. The music softened, the crowd thinned. Priyanshi stepped outside with a few others—everyone gathered to say their goodbyes.
I didn't follow.
I stayed behind, near the window, letting the night air graze my skin. I watched her through the glass. She was smiling as always, hugging her colleagues one by one, leaving behind a warmth in their expressions that I could never hold on to.
Then, for a brief second, she paused.
Her eyes scanned the entrance… and the hallway… and the steps near the garden.
My heart jumped. Was she looking for me?
But then—no.
She simply turned, hailed a cab, opened the door, and left. No glance back. No second thought. The headlights flickered across my face, then vanished into the dark. And by the time the silence returned…
She was gone.
My fingers curled tightly around the railing. A dull, aching pressure built in my chest—quiet but suffocating. All it would've taken was one moment… one breath of courage. But I hadn't spoken.
And now, it was over.
As I left the hospital and stepped into the streetlight's shadow, one thought echoed through my mind:
"Why am I like this?"
"Why do I always hold back… until it's too late?"
I didn't tell my friends. Not about the storeroom. Not about what I wanted to say. And I knew—
I knew they'd be disappointed in me.
But no one could be more disappointed than I was.
As soon as Ayaan reached home, he got straight to work. He cleaned the house, took a quick shower, and began preparing dinner. Now he stood at the kitchen counter, silently chopping vegetables. With each slice of the knife, it felt like he was trying to cut through the regret lodged deep inside his chest.
Behind him, the soft sound of footsteps echoed. Anya entered the kitchen, quietly watching him for a moment. Then, with a small smile, she asked, "So… how was your day today?"
Ayaan glanced at her, then returned to the cutting board. "It was… just okay," he said quietly.
"Just okay?" she teased. "Doesn't look like it from your face."
He set the knife down, his fingers resting on the edge of the counter. After a pause, he spoke—his voice low, like he was admitting something to himself.
"I wanted to tell Priyanshi…"
Anya's expression softened. "Tell her what?"
"That I love her."
He sighed. "But I couldn't say it. I was right there, but… the words wouldn't come out."
A silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the ceiling fan.
"I waited too long," he said finally, "and now I'm just left with this… regret."
Anya stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her voice was soft, but her words carried quiet strength.
"Bhaiya… feelings like that don't disappear overnight. Maybe today wasn't the right moment—but that doesn't mean it's the end. If not today, then maybe tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then one day. Maybe God is just waiting for the right time."
Ayaan looked at her. Something in her voice—so calm and certain—eased the heaviness in his chest. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"And anyway," Anya added with a wink, "if not her, then someone else. You're pretty smart, Bhaiya. You'll impress someone eventually, right?"
Ayaan blinked, then suddenly burst out laughing. He reached over, pulled her into a hug, and squeezed her tightly.
"Yeah, yeah, you little devil!"
"Hey! Bhaiya!" Anya squirmed, laughing. "Let me go! Don't hug me so tight, you crazy brother!"
He let her go, still chuckling.
For a moment, the house felt lighter. The ache hadn't disappeared—but it had softened, wrapped in warmth only a sister could give.
There were days when things felt heavy… but moments like this reminded him:
as long as she was by his side, nothing was completely lost.
This morning… something truly unexpected happened.
My eyes blinked open to the soft light of dawn. A lingering drowsiness clung to me, warm and stubborn. I reached over to the bedside table, grabbed my phone, and lazily unlocked the screen.
That's when I saw it.
"Congratulations! Your interview is scheduled at our Gurgaon branch. Please arrive on time for further information regarding the job."
I sat up straight. My heartbeat spiked.
'Is this real?'
I stared at the screen, reading the line over and over—half-expecting it to vanish. But it didn't. It was real.
'This is happening.'
The last threads of sleep vanished. I stood, walked to the window, and let the cool breeze wash over my face. The sky outside was slowly turning gold, as if morning itself was cheering for me.
"I won't let this chance slip away," I whispered, a quiet promise to no one but myself.
Behind me, a sleepy voice yawned into the silence. "Bhaiya, you're up already?"
I turned. Anya stood in the doorway, still rubbing her eyes. Her hair was a mess, one strand stuck awkwardly to her cheek. But when she saw the smile on my face, her drowsiness vanished.
"Hey! What happened? Why do you look so… suspiciously happy?"
Without a word, I rushed forward, grabbed her by the waist, and spun her into the air.
"Bhaiyaa! Stop! I'm scared!" she squealed, but her giggles betrayed her panic.
"I got called for an interview, Anya!" I shouted.
Her eyes widened. "Wait—what? An interview?!"
I nodded, grinning.
"That means you'll finally earn more than your current pocket-change salary!" she teased.
"Yes, you little nut!" I laughed.
She clapped excitedly. "Yaaay! Bhaiya, you're seriously lucky! Yesterday your heart broke, and today you got a job!"
My smile vanished.
The moment she said it, everything in me stilled. Her words cut sharper than she intended. I looked away, my joy deflating in an instant. My legs felt heavy as I slowly backed away and sat down at the edge of the bed.
"My luck is just awful…" I muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.
Anya's smile faded. She rushed over, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Bhaiya… I was just joking," she said quietly.
I nodded, breathing deep—trying to swallow the ache clawing its way back up. After a moment, I exhaled and stood again.
"No," I said, voice steadier now. "No more regrets. I'm not losing this chance. If the salary's better, I'll leave my current job. With more money, we can finally live a better life."
Anya lit up. "Yes, Bhaiya! I know you'll make it! All your hard work—it won't go to waste." She balled her tiny hand into a fist. "And I'll become a doctor too—a big one! Then all three of us will be set!"
I blinked. "Three of us?"
She gave a mischievous smile. "Me, you, and your future wife—my bhabhi, duh!"
I smacked her lightly on the head. "You little drama queen! What goes on in that head of yours?"
She struck a pose. "If I were your boss, I'd make you do all the sweeping and mopping—and cook paneer tikka every night!"
I folded my arms. "And I'd do it all with tears and joy, Madam CEO!"
We both burst into laughter.
Later, I slipped into my best clothes—a crisp white shirt and black trousers. I smoothed the wrinkles with my palms and stared at myself in the mirror.
"Ufff… it's been years since my last interview," I muttered. "No idea what they'll ask."
From behind, Anya called out, "I know exactly what they'll ask—'When are you getting married?'"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, okay. As if you run the company."
"Maybe I do," she said dramatically. "Maybe I'm testing your patience right now."
I laughed, put on my shoes, and typed out a quick message in my department's WhatsApp group asking for a day off. I slung my bag over my shoulder and looked at Anya, who stood by the door with a grin on her face.
"Alright, I'm heading out."
She raised her hand in a mock salute. "Best of luck, Bhaiya!"
The door closed behind me with a soft thud.
A breeze greeted me outside—cool, calm, and full of promise. With every step down the road, something stirred in my chest.
'This is my chance.'
'And I'm going to give it everything I've got.'
But deep inside…
a small voice whispered: 'Just don't mess this up too.'
Amidst the soft hum of the metro and the low murmur of half-asleep passengers, I sat in my seat, scrolling aimlessly through my phone.
Trinity Foundation…
I re-read the email, letting the words linger: "Your interview is scheduled at our Gurgaon branch…"
The screen's glow reflected off my face, but my mind was miles ahead—already imagining what kind of place this was, and what kind of future it might hold.
As soon as I stepped out of the station, I was swallowed by the chaos of Gurgaon. Glass towers stretched skyward. Cars sped past like thoughts in a restless mind. Crowds surged in every direction, no one pausing, no one noticing. I felt… small. Like I didn't quite belong.
My phone buzzed with GPS directions. I followed them carefully until I stopped in front of a small, three-story building tucked between a bank and an under-construction café.
No glowing signboards. No security guards. No fancy logo.
Just a plain, silent building—so ordinary it almost felt suspicious.
I smoothed my shirt, took a breath, and stepped inside.
Reception Area
A soft hum of air conditioning greeted me, along with the quiet tap-tap of a keyboard. Behind a sleek desk sat a neatly dressed receptionist, her eyes locked on her computer screen.
I walked up and gave her my name.
She glanced up briefly, gave a polite smile, and said, "You'll have to wait a little while, sir. You can take a seat over there."
I nodded, walked over, and sat down. The office was quiet—too quiet. A few employees moved about with calm precision, like parts of a well-oiled machine. The whole place felt… still.
Next to me sat a man reading a newspaper and casually munching on a samosa.
White hair. Long black beard. Dark sunglasses hiding his eyes—even indoors. And his outfit? Just shorts and a loose t-shirt. Completely at odds with the formal atmosphere.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and right then—grrrr—my stomach betrayed me with a soft growl.
The man lowered his newspaper, looked directly at me, and said, "You want some too?"
I blinked. "Oh no, uncle ji, please—go ahead."
"Come on, don't act shy. Here," he said, pressing a warm samosa into my hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I hesitated. Then smiled. "Thank you, uncle ji…"
I wasn't planning to take it, but my hunger won.
Before I could even take a bite, the receptionist's voice called out:
"Ayaan, you may come in now."
I stood up in a hurry and looked at the samosa still in my hand. Turning to the man, I said, "Uncle ji, I'm really sorry. I have to go—I didn't get a chance to eat it."
He took it back with a grin, not at all bothered. He flipped the page of his newspaper, leaned back slightly, and said—almost too softly:
"Ayaan… hmm. That's a good name."
My breath caught for a second.
I don't remember ever telling him my name.
At home
It was around 8 at night. Anya and I sat at the dining table, quietly finishing dinner. Matar paneer was on the plate—but the moment I took a bite, I noticed it was a little low on salt.
Just as I reached for the shaker, Anya gave a sly little smile. "So tell me, Bhaiya—how did the interview go?"
I paused for a moment, thought a little, then gave a faint smile. "It was... interesting. But this isn't some ordinary job."
That got her attention. She set her piece of roti down and looked up at me, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Really? Come on, tell me—I want all the details!"
I took a deep breath, broke off another piece of roti, and started, "There was only one guy in the room. Looked serious. Confident. I thought he'd ask for my resume, but instead… he told me the background check was already done."
"Background check?" she echoed, blinking.
"Yeah. No questions about my degree or experience. They'd already looked into me. All that mattered was whether I could do the job."
"What kind of job is this?" she asked, brows drawn.
I hesitated a second, then said, "I'll be sent to different locations to collect samples."
"Samples? What kind?"
"Could be anything," I shrugged. "Not just human—animal samples too. Hair, blood, even things like soil or grass."
She wrinkled her nose. "That sounds... kind of gross. And weird."
I chuckled. "Maybe. But work is work. And the best part? They said I could bring two people with me. I'm thinking of taking Roshit and Varun."
Anya fell silent for a moment, sipping her water thoughtfully. "And the salary?"
"They said I could quote my own number. I just have to coordinate with their accounts team."
Her eyes widened slightly. "That sounds... too good. Field jobs can be risky, Bhaiya. Are you sure about this?"
I took another bite. "All I'm doing is collecting samples. It's not like I'm going to war. And if anything feels off, I'll leave."
She didn't look fully convinced but nodded slowly, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.
"So… when do you start?"
I smiled. "Already did. They've added me to their WhatsApp group. I'll get sample instructions and locations directly there. I just have to go, collect the item, keep it with me, and their pickup team takes care of the rest. The payment gets processed instantly."
Anya blinked, then laughed. "That's it? Sounds like the easiest job ever. You'll be making money blindfolded!"
I grinned. "See? Your brother's a genius. And now, I can finally start saving for your NEET fees."
Her expression softened. She placed her hand gently over mine.
"Thank you, Bhaiya. You're always supporting me… I promise, I won't let you down. I'll crack NEET this year. I'll become a doctor—you'll see."
I looked at her and smiled, filled with quiet pride. "I believe in you, Anya."
Then I smirked. "But for now, finish your dinner and go to bed! You've got revision tomorrow!"
"Okay, okay!" she said with a giggle. "As you say, Bhaiya!"
The two of us laughed, the sound echoing softly through the house. These conversations, this quiet warmth—that's what made our bond feel unshakable.
For the first time in a long while, it felt like we were on the edge of something better. A new job. A hopeful future. A promise between siblings.
But the world doesn't always unfold the way we expect.
And as one chapter closed, another had already begun—quietly, and without warning.
-End of chapter 1