There was a ringing sound at first.
Soft.
Faint.
Like a distant bell underwater.
Suzanne felt weightless, as if she were floating in a dark, warm sea. Voices blurred around her — scattered, overlapping, anxious. She couldn't make out the words, just tones.
Fear.
Shock.
Her name repeated again and again.
Then suddenly—
"Suzanne! Please open your eyes!"
Ryan's voice cracked right through the darkness, pulling her toward the surface. The weight around her body slowly shifted — like the world was letting her return.
Her fingers twitched first.
Then her eyelids fluttered.
And finally, she opened her eyes.
She found herself lying on a narrow bed, a cool cloth on her forehead. A soft whirring fan circled lazily above her. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the room.
Arhan was pacing near the window, his sketchbook clutched tightly against his chest — like he was ready to draw something just to calm himself. His hair was messy, even more than usual.
Ryan sat beside her bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His hands were trembling, and his breathing was unsteady.
The school nurse was writing something on a form, muttering about blood pressure and stress.
Suzanne blinked.
The room swayed a little, but not as badly as before.
The moment she moved, Ryan looked up sharply.
"Suzannr!"
His voice was raw.
Almost angry.
Almost breaking.
"You scared me…" he whispered, swallowing hard.
---
"I'm fine," she lied — again.
Suzannr pushed herself up slowly. Ryan immediately steadied her shoulder, his fingers careful but urgent.
Arhan stopped pacing and rushed over.
"Suzzane, what the hell is going on with you? Why did you— why did you—"
His voice cracked, and he looked away, embarrassed by his own panic.
The nurse walked over.
"You fainted, dear. And your nose was bleeding a lot. Has this happened before?"
"No," Suzannr said too quickly.
Ryan stared at her.
Not blinking.
Not believing her.
The nurse nodded anyway. "It's probably just stress. Drink water. And rest a bit."
Rest.
Such a simple word.
Yet the hardest thing for her.
Within minutes, footsteps echoed in the corridor — fast, desperate.
Her father rushed inside.
His tie was crooked, his hair ruffled, and his face pale.
"Suzzane!"
He knelt beside her bed, holding her hands tightly. "Are you okay? I came as soon as the school called—"
"I'm okay, Dad," she whispered.
But the way his eyes scanned her face…
He didn't believe her either.
He touched her cheek gently.
"You look drained. Tell me if something else happened."
She shook her head.
"Just a dizzy spell."
Her father closed his eyes for a brief second — a long, heavy breath escaping him — as if he were silently begging God to let that be true.
As the nurse asked her father to sign some papers, Ryan quietly stepped outside the room. The moment the door closed behind him, he pressed his hands against his face.
Arhan followed him out.
"You knew it too, right?" Arhan asked softly.
Ryan didn't answer.
"You've seen it. She's getting sick. Something's wrong."
Ryan clenched his jaw.
"I know."
"Then ask her—"
Ryan snapped, "She'll tell me when she's ready!"
Arhan stared at him with frustration.
"Or maybe she won't. Maybe she's trying to protect you."
Ryan's shoulders sagged.
The truth in that sentence hurt more than anything.
He whispered, "I'm scared, Arhan."
Arhan didn't reply.
He just put a hand on Ryan's shoulder — a rare gesture of comfort.
Her father insisted she skip the rest of her classes.
The car ride was quiet.
Suzanne looked out the window, watching the city blur by. People laughed, walked, lived — carrying on as if the world wasn't trembling under her feet.
Her father finally spoke, voice soft but sharp enough to break her heart.
"Suzanne… something is happening to you again, isn't it?"
Her breath stopped.
Again.
That word.
He didn't mean to say it…
But it slipped out.
Because he was worried.
Because he knew.
She forced a smile.
"It was just one dizzy spell, Dad. I'm okay."
He didn't respond.
He just gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Her mother fussed over her, bringing her soup, adjusting her pillows, checking her temperature every few minutes.
Aarav sat beside her bed silently, drawing something on a scrap paper.
When she asked what he was drawing, he said:
"A superhero."
"Which one?" Suzanne smiled.
"You," he whispered.
Her eyes filled, but she blinked the tears back.
She couldn't break here.
She couldn't scare them.
Not yet.
Lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she touched her nose gently.
There was no more bleeding, but the metallic taste from earlier still lingered in her mind.
She closed her eyes.
"Please stop," she whispered into the darkness.
"Just give me a little more time. A little more life."
The room didn't answer.
Only silence.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Ryan:
"You fainted today.
I won't pretend everything is okay anymore.
Tomorrow… I need to talk to you."
Suzanne's heartbeat stuttered.
Was this it?
Was the truth finally coming closer than she planned?
The storm was no longer quiet.
It was approaching—
step
by
step.
---