The second day felt worse.

By the third day, Nila was officially annoyed.

Aaradhya wasn't answering messages.

Not properly.

Not like before.

**Good morning.**

Seen.

No reply.

**Are you alive?**

*Busy.*

**That's suspicious.**

No answer.

Nila stared at the screen.

Then stared harder.

As if threatening the phone would help.

It didn't.

"You're sulking."

Divya dropped into the chair beside her.

Nila immediately looked offended.

"I don't sulk."

"You've been staring at your phone for twenty minutes."

"I'm studying."

"Nila."

"Fine."

Divya smirked.

"It's Aaradhya, isn't it?"

The silence was answer enough.

"Maybe she's busy."

"Maybe."

"Maybe she has family problems."

"Maybe."

"Maybe you're being dramatic."

"Definitely."

The worst part wasn't the silence.

The worst part was how much it affected her.

She missed the messages.

The jokes.

The random phone calls.

The feeling of knowing someone was there.

It shouldn't matter this much.

Yet somehow...

It did.

That evening, Nila sat on the rooftop alone.

The same rooftop.

The same sunset.

The same city.

Yet everything felt different.

Because Aaradhya wasn't beside her.

The realization hit harder than expected.

She had become a habit.

A dangerous habit.

Her phone suddenly vibrated.

Nila grabbed it immediately.

Too quickly.

Way too quickly.

Aaradhya.

Her heart betrayed her instantly.

**Aaradhya:**

*Sorry.*

Just one word.

Nothing else.

Nila stared at it.

Anger.

Relief.

Confusion.

All at once.

She called immediately.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then connected.

"Hello?"

Aaradhya's voice sounded exhausted.

"What happened?"

No greeting.

No sarcasm.

Straight to the point.

Silence.

"Nila..."

The way she said her name made something feel wrong.

Very wrong.

"My mother is in the hospital."

The world stopped.

All the irritation disappeared instantly.

Every bit of it.

"What?"

The word escaped quietly.

"She's okay."

Aaradhya said it quickly.

Too quickly.

Like she'd been repeating it to herself.

"But she's sick."

A pause.

Then another.

"I've been there every day."

Nila closed her eyes.

Of course.

Of course it wasn't about her.

Of course something was wrong.

And suddenly she felt guilty.

For every angry thought.

Every stupid assumption.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The question came out softer than intended.

Aaradhya laughed weakly.

A sad sound.

"I didn't want to burden you."

Something about that answer hurt.

Deeply.

"Idiot."

Aaradhya became quiet.

"You think I'd disappear because things got difficult?"

Silence.

Then—

"No."

But she didn't sound convinced.

Nila understood immediately.

Because she knew that fear.

The fear that people leave when things become complicated.

The fear that support comes with conditions.

"Nila..."

"Hm?"

Another pause.

Then—

"I'm tired."

Three simple words.

Yet they sounded heartbreakingly vulnerable.

For the first time since meeting her...

Aaradhya sounded completely exhausted.

Nila looked toward the darkening sky.

Thinking carefully.

Then she stood.

Grabbed her hoodie.

Picked up her keys.

"What are you doing?" Aaradhya asked.

"Where's the hospital?"

Silence.

"Nila..."

"Where."

The word came out firm.

Certain.

For several seconds neither spoke.

Then Aaradhya's voice broke slightly.

Just slightly.

"You don't have to come."

Nila smiled sadly.

Because somehow...

That was exactly why she needed to.

"Yeah."

She whispered.

"I do.”