Ananya stood outside her and Rihaan’s bedroom like a student outside the principal’s office—not for a scolding, but for something far more terrifying: confessing a crush.

The hallway light flickered overhead like a judgmental aunt. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, twisting and untwisting fabric that had never done anything wrong. Her pulse fluttered like a moth against glass, restless, desperate to break free of her chest but unsure how.