The room carried that quiet heaviness which comes only when time feels like it’s slipping too fast. A half-packed suitcase lay open near the bed, its neat stacks of folded clothes whispering the truth neither of them wanted to say out loud — departure was real, and it was close. The soft yellow lamp in the corner wrapped the space in a warm glow, as if trying to soften the ache settling in the air. Ruhaani stood near the couch, fingers nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta, while Kabir checked the last pocket of his bag.

“Kabir, charger aur power bank?” she asked, her voice trying to sound casual but carrying that faint tremor she couldn’t hide.