The night was heavy with an unsettling silence. Haider stood by the dimly lit street, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the piece of paper in his hand. It was old, fragile, the ink slightly smudged with time, but the words still held their weight— the weight of a forgotten truth.
"You were never meant to find this."
The message was cryptic, just like the countless other pieces of this puzzle that seemed to be falling into place, only to lead to more questions. The truth was close—too close.
Abrish was inside the car, watching him, her heartbeat loud in her own ears. She could sense it—the storm that was brewing inside Haider. But she also knew that this wasn't just about the present. This was about the past—the past they had both buried, or tried to.
"Haider…" her voice was soft, cautious.
He turned his head slightly, his jaw tense, but he didn't respond. He just exhaled and folded the paper before slipping it into his pocket.
"We need to talk," she continued.
"About what?" His tone was flat, but the way he looked at her—there was something unreadable in his gaze.
"You know what."
Three years ago, their world had shattered.
The truth had been manipulated, and trust had been broken. But who was the real culprit? Who had set everything in motion?
Haider knew that finding answers meant facing the very thing he had spent years running from.
The night everything changed.
Three Years Ago – The Betrayal
The university library was empty except for the faint whispers of books being stacked on distant shelves. Zayan sat at the far end, his fingers tapping restlessly against the wooden table. Across from him, his so-called 'friends' leaned in, smirking.
"So… what do we do with this?" One of them held up the small, leather-bound diary.
Abrish's diary.
Zayan's throat went dry. He had never meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be harmless—a stupid bet, a moment of reckless pride. But things had spiraled out of control.
"This has everything," another voice murmured. "Her weaknesses. Her thoughts. Even things she never told anyone."
Zayan swallowed hard. They weren't supposed to take it this far.
"She trusts you," one of them mocked. "Poor girl."
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He wanted to snatch it back, to burn it, to undo this entire mess. But he hesitated.
That hesitation cost him everything.
Because that night, Abrish found out.
She had walked in just as laughter erupted, just as someone flipped open a page and read aloud a deeply personal passage.
The betrayal was written in the silence that followed.
The way her eyes widened, the way her hands trembled as she realized what was happening.
And then, the way her face hardened—not with tears, but with an eerie, quiet resolve.
And for the first time in his life, Zayan felt like he had truly lost something.
Present Day – The Mystery They Had Yet to Solve
Haider blinked as the memory faded, replaced by the cold present.
Abrish was staring at him now, waiting. For answers.
But how could he tell her that he didn't even have them himself?
"We need to go," he said instead.
"Haider." Her voice was firmer this time. "I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth."
He looked at her then, really looked at her—the girl he had once broken, the girl who was now standing in front of him, stronger than before.
The truth wasn't just about them anymore.
It was about everything.
And the deeper they dug, the more dangerous it became.
Because someone else was watching.
And they weren't the only ones chasing the truth.
Past
The park was nearly deserted at this hour, its usual liveliness replaced by an eerie stillness. The dim glow of the streetlights cast long shadows across the damp grass, and the cold night breeze rustled the leaves, whispering secrets no one would ever hear. Somewhere in the distance, a lone swing creaked, swaying gently as if moved by an unseen force.
Near a worn-out wooden bench, a man stood in silence. His gaze was fixed on a young man who had been coming here for days. Every night, the same routine—he would sit on that bench, unmoving, staring at the ground as if searching for something he had lost.
He looked shattered, like someone who had forgotten how to exist.
His pain was visible in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, in the way his head hung low, in the way his shoulders carried the weight of something unbearable.
The observer didn't know his story, but he could tell—this was a man who had lost everything.
He sat still, his fingers loosely gripping the edge of the bench, his knuckles white. The cold breeze barely registered against his skin, nor did the faint drizzle that had begun to fall.
The laughter of his so-called friends still rang in his ears, their mocking words clawing at his mind. He had played along, let them believe he was like them.
But he wasn't.
And now, he had lost her.
Her face flashed before his eyes—not the way she used to look at him before, but the way she had looked at him that night.
Empty.
She hadn't yelled. She hadn't fought back. She had just… walked away.
And somehow, that had hurt more than anything else ever could.
He took a shaky breath, his nails digging into his palms. He had thought he could control everything. Thought he could keep his world from crumbling.
He had been wrong.
A car passed by the park, its headlights illuminating him for a brief second before fading into the night. He felt like he was disappearing with it—fading into the darkness that had taken root inside him.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. For a moment, he considered ignoring it. But something—some instinct—made him pull it out.
The screen flickered. A message.
Unknown Number:You are not who you pretend to be.
His breath hitched.
His grip on the phone tightened.
Someone knew.
And for the first time since that night, a different kind of fear settled inside him.
Not for himself.
For Her