Ananya
The walls had ears. That's what her mother always said.But Ananya had learned something far more dangerous: the walls also had cracks.
Her new routine was suffocating—no phone, no college, no privacy. Even her books were inspected now. She was expected to help in the kitchen, sit in the living room where her mother's gaze could track her, and go to bed with the lights off at a strict hour.
Yet, within this rigid schedule, she carved out slivers of rebellion.
She hummed under her breath when she worked—songs Riyan once teased her about loving.She stole minutes in the bathroom, unfolding his note and pressing it against her lips.She lingered by the balcony a little too long, staring at the world outside like she was memorizing escape routes.
Her mother's eyes narrowed often now, suspicious, but Ananya forced herself to keep her expression calm, her tone obedient. Inside, though, she was daring them. You can trap my body, but you will not choke my soul.
And every night when she whispered his name into her pillow, she could almost feel him answer.
Riyan
For Riyan, almost wasn't enough anymore.
He had tried patience. He had let Kabir smuggle messages. He had written words until his fingers cramped. But letters and distance were killing him.
Ananya wasn't ink and paper—she was heat, softness, fire. And he couldn't survive on ghosts.
So he began to plan. Not scribbled notes, not coded messages—this time, something real.
A face-to-face.
It was reckless. If they were caught, the punishment would be brutal, perhaps irreversible. But what was the alternative? To watch her disappear under her parents' control? To let her flame dim out of reach?
Never.
He found out when her family visited the temple every Friday evening. He knew the path, the crowd, the narrow side street that led to the flower stalls. And he knew, deep in his gut, that if he waited there, just once, she would come.
And when she did, he would not let the moment pass. Not this time.
That night, Ananya clutched Riyan's note under her pillow, her heart a steady drumbeat of defiance. Her parents thought they had broken her—but she felt sharper, stronger.
And somewhere across the city, Riyan's heart beat just as fiercely, his plan already in motion.
The cage had cracks. And soon, someone would slip through them.