Diya walked back to her room like a ghost of herself. Her steps felt automatic, her face blank. When she reached the door, her roommate greeted her with a bright, "Hey, how did it go?"
Diya looked at her and smiled faintly. "Fine," she whispered, and then dropped onto her bed.
The roommate kept talking, probably about some event or assignment, but the words floated past Diya like wind through a tunnel. She nodded occasionally, not really hearing. Her mind was still at the gate, her hands still holding that black bottle, her heart still cracking open in the middle of strangers and silence.
Evening fell, unnoticed. Her phone buzzed beside her.
Maddy: "I took the bottle."
An image followed—his hand holding it, his name printed clearly on the sleek black surface.
Maddy: "Thank you."
She stared at the message for a long time. Then typed two letters.
Diya: "Ok."
Almost immediately, he called.
She let it ring.
He called again.
She still didn't pick up.
The third time, her thumb hesitated… and then accepted.
"Hello?" Her voice was flat.
"Hey," he said gently. "Why weren't you picking up?"
"My phone was on silent. Didn't notice."
He paused, then sighed. "Oh. Okay."
There was a moment of awkward silence. Then he started talking—about some random funny thing that happened with his friends, someone slipping in the hostel mess, some meme he saw. He was trying to be light, trying to make her laugh. Like he always used to.
But she wasn't laughing now.
"I'm not feeling well," she said softly. "I think I'll sleep early."
Maddy's voice faltered. "What happened? Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
And that was the moment it struck her—he hadn't even looked at her properly today.
Not once had his eyes searched her face like they used to. Not once had he paused and asked, "Are you okay?" the moment he sensed something was off. He didn't notice her pale skin, the way she clutched her stomach, the tired slump of her shoulders.
Once upon a time, he could read her like a book. Now, it was like he'd stopped trying.
"I'm just… tired," she said, her throat tightening.
"Okay. Text me if you need anything, alright?"
"Hmm."
"Good night."
"Good night."
She ended the call and curled up under her blanket, the ache in her stomach nothing compared to the ache in her chest.
Because there's a difference between someone not knowing and someone choosing not to see.
And that night, Diya realized something she didn't want to admit.
Maddy was starting to choose the silence.