— Meher's POV
The call came at 9:13 p.m.
I was sitting on the bed in our shared room, scrolling without seeing, trying not to imagine a black car outside the gate.
"Meher," my mother said.
Not hello.
Not how are you.
My name.
"They're worried," she continued. "Your presence there is creating unnecessary narratives."
"I'm attending a college summit," I replied. "Not a protest."
"You are a Kapoor," she said sharply. "Your silence or appearance is never neutral."
I closed my eyes.
"They're offering you something better," she said. "A leadership retreat in Singapore. Corporate mentoring. Press."
"They're trying to remove me," I said quietly.
"They're trying to protect you," she corrected.
"From who?" I asked.
"From being irrelevant."
The word burned.
"I am not afraid of irrelevance," I said. "I am afraid of being owned."
Her voice softened — which meant strategy.
"You're becoming difficult," she said. "People are noticing."
"Yes," I replied. "That's the point."
There was a pause.
Then she said, "The driver will be there at seven. Pack tonight."
"I'm not coming," I said.
This time, I didn't raise my voice.
I placed it.
Silence.
Then: "This is not optional."
"I am not a schedule," I said.
"You are a responsibility," she snapped.
"To whom?" I asked.
The question hung.
She ended the call.
Not angrily.
Decisively.
My hands trembled slightly.
Not fear.
Recognition.
They were done negotiating.
I walked out.
The night air hit my face.
The valley lights were distant.
And then I saw Ananya, walking toward me, notebook in hand, eyes serious.
"They're stealing your team's work," she said.
I nodded. "They're trying to steal my life."
We stood there.
Two girls with different battles.
The same shape.
"I don't think this summit is just about students," she said.
"It isn't," I replied. "It never was."
She looked at me. "They're trying to buy youth platforms. Control narratives. Position faces."
"Yes," I said. "And now they've noticed you."
She swallowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means," I said quietly, "you need to be careful who offers help."
Before she could answer, a coordinator appeared.
"Meher," he said awkwardly. "There are people asking for you."
I didn't move.
"Who?" I asked.
He hesitated.
"Corporate guests."
I looked at Ananya.
Then back at him.
"I'll come," I said.
But I didn't go.
Not yet.
Because something in the air had shifted.
This summit was no longer neutral ground.
And someone was about to make a move.