The Past That Never Let Go
Najma woke before dawn.
Not because of pain.
But because silence had changed.
The hospital room was too still—too controlled. The kind of quiet that came before something went wrong.
Her fingers twitched.
Her eyes opened slowly.
The heart monitor beeped steadily. Curtains barely moved. The door was closed.
But Najma knew.
Someone had crossed a line.
Ranveer sat beside her bed, half-asleep in the chair, his tie loosened, his jacket folded carefully on his lap. Even in rest, his body was tense—trained to react.
She whispered, "Ranveer."
His eyes opened instantly.
"You're awake," he said, already standing.
"How long?"
"Two days," he answered. "You scared everyone."
Her lips curved faintly. "I didn't mean to."
She tried to sit up. He stopped her gently.
"Don't."
Najma's gaze drifted to the door. "Who's been coming in and out?"
He frowned. "Nurses. Doctors. Security."
She shook her head slowly. "One of them doesn't belong."
Ranveer stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Najma's voice lowered. "Lock the door."
He didn't question her.
The click echoed loudly in the quiet room.
Miles away, a screen flickered to life.
Encrypted files failed to load.
Blank spaces replaced identities.
A man leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes sharp with recognition.
"She erased herself again," Arya Khan said softly.
A smile ghosted across his lips.
"Find her," he ordered. "Carefully."
A pause.
"Do not harm her."
The room hesitated.
"She is mine."
Back at the hospital, Twinkle burst through the door the moment she heard Najma was awake.
"You—!" Her voice broke as she rushed forward. "Don't you ever disappear like that again!"
Najma reached out, cupping Twinkle's cheek gently. "I came back."
Twinkle nodded fiercely, tears spilling. "You always do."
Najma looked away.
That wasn't a promise she could keep.
Later, the doctor returned with a guarded expression.
"There's something strange," he said carefully. "Your medical history before age fifteen… it doesn't exist."
Ranveer's jaw tightened. "That's impossible."
Najma met the doctor's eyes calmly. "Some lives aren't meant to be traced."
The doctor left unsettled.
Ranveer turned to her slowly. "Najma… who are you really running from?"
She inhaled.
Then answered honestly.
"People who trained me to disappear."
His chest tightened. "Are they here?"
"Yes."
That night, the corridor lights flickered.
Security cameras glitched.
For less than a second—
Najma's reflection vanished from the glass window.
She sat up abruptly, every muscle alert.
"They're checking if I still exist," she murmured.
Ranveer stepped closer, his voice low and deadly calm. "Then they'll have to go through me."
Najma looked at him—really looked.
And for the first time, fear flickered in her eyes.
"Be careful," she said quietly.
"They don't lose what they claim."