Aanya had never been good with silence. Not the awkward kind between strangers or the heavy pauses after arguments. No—what unsettled her was the silence that felt like a mirror. The kind that forced her to sit with her own reflection.

It had been three days since the kitchen conversation. Three days of routine. Of shared meals and distant glances. Of two people orbiting each other like moons pulled by the same gravity but afraid to collide. She was tired of circling.