Chapter 1
Hi everyone
Welcome to my story
"This is the story of a girl who lied to her parents about her marriage so she could cut ties with them."
"Get ready for a heart-wrenching tale, join us to read this story."
Now let's meet our characters.
main character
"Trisha is a 26-year-old woman working in a corporate company.
"I hope this story will be worth your time."
No one in my family talks about Trisha anymore. She was my aunt — 26, bright, and full of dreams — until one day, she simply vanished. I was too young back then to understand what was happening around me, but I remember the tension in the house.
The grown-ups whispered behind closed doors, arguments faded into silence, and slowly, everyone stopped mentioning her name. It was as if she had never existed, but I know she did. And I want to know why she disappeared.
They'd say, "It's better not to talk about her," and walk away. But I can't stop wondering. So I've decided to find out the truth myself — about where she went, and why no one wants me to know.
Ten years have passed since Aunt Trisha disappeared. I'm older now, and the questions I once whispered to myself have grown louder.
I tried asking my parents about her, but every time I did, their faces changed — like I had spoken a forbidden word.
They'd say, "It's better not to talk about her," and walk away. But I can't stop wondering. So I've decided to find out the truth myself — about where she went, and why no one wants me to know.
know I'm in college and staying in a hostel, so I thought it would be easier for me to find the truth.
So, I started searching for information about my aunt. I tried asking her friends because I wanted to find out what was really happening with her.
The biggest challenge was that I didn't even know which college he studied in. I knew her school, but I had no idea where she went afterward. So, I started contacting her school friends.
Back then i searched every corner of our house—letters, photographs, anything. But it was like she never existed. No one kept her memories... or they didn't want to.
I finds only one faint passport-size photo tucked inside a book.
I holds it gently with tear in my eyes.
The only clue I had was her school. So, I went there, hoping to find someone who remembered her—someone who could tell me where she went, what she did, who she became.
I stepped into the school office, heart pounding. "I'm looking for old school photos... competitions, graduation—anything from ten years ago," I told the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow but nodded.
Rows of albums and framed photos sat on a shelf. My fingers trembled as I flipped through them—faces smiling, laughter frozen in time—until I saw her. My aunt. And beside her, a friend who seemed to know every secret smile she had shared.
This was it. This was my first real clue. If someone remembered her, maybe I could finally understand why she left.*
I flipped through the old school photo albums, heart pounding with every page. Faces frozen in time—laughing, proud, alive.
And then I saw her. My aunt. Smiling, holding a trophy at a school competition. Beside her was a girl I didn't know—someone who must have been her closest friend.
I took a deep breath and approached the receptionist.
"Excuse me... this girl, beside my aunt in this photo—do you have her contact number?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
The receptionist shook her head politely. "I can't give out numbers like that."
My chest sank. I had come so far... and now it felt like hitting a wall.
But then, with a small smile, she picked up the phone. "Wait here. Let me try calling her."
My hands shook as I waited. And then—the line clicked.
"Hello?"
"Hi... I'm sorry to bother you," I said quickly, "I'm the niece of [Trisha]. I found your photo together in school, and I... I wanted to know if you still remember her."
There was a pause. Then her voice softened, careful, hesitant. "I remember her... of course I do. What's happened? Why are you looking for her?"
For the first time in years, I felt a connection to my aunt through this friend, someone who had known her laughter, her secrets, and perhaps... the truth behind her sudden goodbye.
I hesitated for a moment, then asked the question that had been burning inside me.
"Would... would you be able to meet me? I mean, in person?"
There was a pause on the other end. I held my breath, heart racing.
"Yes," she finally said softly. "I can meet you."
Relief washed over me. A small smile broke through the tension in my chest.
"Thank you," I whispered. "It means a lot... I just want to understand everything about my aunt."
"I think you deserve to know," she replied. "See you soon."
I hung up, my hands still trembling. Finally—after years of searching, after all the unanswered questions and the silence—there was hope.
Somewhere, out there, was someone who could tell me the truth about my aunt.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was one step closer.
The café was quiet, almost empty, except for the low hum of conversation and the clinking of cups. I arrived early, my heart hammering in my chest. Every step toward that table felt heavier than the last.
And then I saw her—my aunt's friend. She looked older than the photo, of course, but the same warmth in her eyes remained. She noticed me immediately and gave a small, tentative smile.
"Hi... you must be Ansh?" she asked softly.
"Yes," I replied, trying to steady my voice. "Thank you for meeting me."
We sat across from each other. Silence stretched for a moment, but it was not uncomfortable—it was filled with unspoken understanding.
"I've never met her family," she began. "It's... strange seeing someone from her life now, after all these years."
I nodded. "I didn't know where to start. I searched everywhere at home, but there was nothing... no letters, no photos. Only you, maybe, could tell me about her."
Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her cup. "She was always special... so full of life, so careful about who she trusted. That's why what happened that day—her sudden goodbye—was... hard to understand."
I leaned forward. "Can you tell me? What really happened?"
She hesitated, then spoke quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "I don't know everything, but I can tell you what I remember... and maybe together, we can understand her choices."
A mix of relief and anticipation surged through me. Finally—after years of silence, questions, and unanswered calls—I was on the verge of learning the truth.
The journey to uncover my aunt's secret had just begun.
the café was quiet, almost empty, and I felt every heartbeat echo in my chest as I sat across from my aunt's friend. Her eyes held a softness, but there was a shadow of sadness too.
"I want to understand her," I said quietly. "Why she disappeared, why she stopped talking to everyone."
She nodded slowly. "I think... I can tell you a little. It might help."
Her voice trembled as she recalled memories I had never known. "Ten years ago, she had a fight... not an argument, she started it herself. But after that, she said something that I'll never forget: 'I love you... and thank you.' And then she cut the call."
I swallowed hard, remembering that day—the confusion, the unanswered calls, the heaviness that never left me.
"I tried calling her again... so many times," I admitted, "but she never picked up. I even talked to my uncle, Trisha's dad. He said she was okay, so I thought... maybe she just didn't want to talk to me. I thought as long as she was okay, it didn't matter."
Her friend's eyes softened even more. "That's just it... she did the same with many of us. After that fight, she said the same words to our other friends too. 'I love you... and thank you.' It was always like a goodbye—but nobody knew why. She left us with nothing but those words."
I felt tears prick my eyes. That familiar phrase, spoken to each of her friends, carried the weight of a secret no one had understood for years.
"So... she didn't disappear because she didn't care," I whispered. "She just... wanted us to know she loved us... even if she couldn't stay."
Her friend nodded slowly, as if sharing this truth had lifted a weight off her own shoulders. "Exactly. And now that you're here, maybe... together, we can finally understand her choices."
For the first time in a decade, I felt a small spark of hope. The journey to uncover my aunt's truth was finally beginning.
