The room was steeped in that rare kind of silence-not the strained, awkward hush that begs to be broken, but the kind that settles after words have been shared honestly, wounds opened carefully, and understanding extended like a hand across a fragile line. Ananya had left with a lighter heart and a promise of self-reflection, her smile now less guarded and her steps more certain. Kiara stood at the doorway, watching her disappear down the hallway, when something caught her attention-a sound, subtle yet telling.

A door shutting. No, not just shutting-slamming.