Rohit blinked at the message from Ragini, the last traces of sleep still fogging his mind. His body felt heavy, but worry pushed him to his feet. She'd had a rough day—he couldn't just ignore her.
The corridor outside was washed in a faint, sickly green glow from the zero-watt bulb. The light flickered now and then, making the shadows crawl along the walls. His footsteps echoed softly against the floor as he made his way toward the far end—where Ragini's room was.
When he pushed the door open, a strange wave of déjà vu hit him. The room looked almost the same as before—bathed in dim red light, curtains drawn, the faint scent of jasmine in the air. But this time, Ragini wasn't sitting with her tear-streaked face or trembling hands.
She was lying on the bed, cocooned in her blanket, her face calm and unreadable in the crimson hue.
Rohit hesitated at the threshold before stepping closer.
"Ragini… you awake?" he whispered.
No response.
