Chapter 3: A Kindness Remembered

"Son, wake up. Your classmate has come to see you." I opened my eyes to the rough scratch of hospital bedsheets and the sharp tang of antiseptic in the air. An IV dripped steadily into my arm.

Sneha, whom I’d messaged, hovered at the door, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, eyes darting to the floor as she clutched her tiffin—a bright steel box, packed by my Maa out of habit. "Aunty, hello, I’m Sneha. Rohan messaged me saying he was sick and asked me to help hand in his homework."

After all these years, seeing this gentle, well-behaved girl again made my heart ache. Her long braid swung forward as she shifted, her eyes soft with concern.

Memories crashed back—Sneha in my old life, always quietly helping. I remembered how, after my accident, she’d once lent me her notes without a word, and later, how she’d risked everything to call for help and record evidence. She’d been the only one who truly stood by me, and yet, she’d paid the price with bruises and fear.

"Good child, come in. Aunty will peel some fruit for you. Sorry to trouble you," Maa said warmly, her voice full of gratitude.

Sneha quickly shook her head. "Thank you, Aunty, no need. I have to go to school."

Her voice was soft, respectful—the kind that made elders swell with pride. She adjusted her schoolbag, her gaze flickering to me, concern etched in every line of her face.

Sneha lived in the neighbouring colony, so we usually took the same shortcut to school. Today, though, that path would be a trap—Kabir would be lying in wait for Ananya.

In my previous life, Sneha was the one who saved me—calling the police, recording a video as evidence. She paid dearly for her courage, her face bruised, her mother shouting at the principal in the hospital. By the time I woke from the ICU, Sneha had dropped out, vanishing from my life forever.

Pretending to be sick wasn’t just about dodging Ananya and Kabir. It was a way to steer Sneha onto a different path, away from danger.

Sneha is gentle, kind, warm-hearted. I knew after my message, she’d come to help, and in doing so, would take the main road from the hospital—safe, away from trouble.

As Sneha nodded gratefully to Maa and slipped away, sunlight caught the glass bangles on her wrist. She looked back at me for a heartbeat—a gentle, knowing smile. For the first time that morning, I felt a strange peace settle inside me.