Chapter 6: Silent Resolve

In the end, the whole tamasha was twisted—I was just jealous of Neha’s talent.

Kabir looked at me, wanting to say something but stopping. His eyes were stormy, fists clenched. Some classmates watched from afar, unsure who to support.

Arjun brought Neha over, supposedly to apologise, but really just to show off.

Neha reached for my hand. I jerked away: “Ah!”

Kabir’s voice cut in, cold: “She said don’t touch her.”

A few people flinched. Someone whispered, “Bechari.”

Neha’s hand dropped. Arjun, annoyed, shielded her: “Meera, kitna zyada chahiye tumhe? Neha sorry bolne ko ready hai.”

“Sorry? Chahe woh pair pakad ke maafi maange, I’ll never forgive her.”

I looked at Arjun, my voice mocking though silent: “Bas. Ab se sab khatam.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find proof I wrote this. She won’t get away.”

Everyone says mute people must swallow pain quietly. But I—Meera—won’t.

No one can force me.

Actually, I wasn’t always mute.

I used to speak.

After an accident, I lost my voice.

Or maybe, I just got sick.

The weight of old memories pressed on my chest. Even now, when the city’s quiet and peacocks call in the park, I hear echoes of that day.