Chapter 1
The Accident That Forgot
The evening sky was a dull shade of orange fading slowly into grey. The air felt heavy, like it was waiting for something to happen.
Ananya stepped out of her house with her bag resting on her shoulder. She closed the door gently behind her.
She didn’t look back.
Her parents had decided it was better for her to move to a hostel near college. They said it would help her focus. Help her grow.
She wondered why growing always meant leaving something behind.
Instead of taking an auto from her street, she chose to walk toward the main road.
She needed air. She needed silence before starting something new.
The neighborhood was alive in small ways.
A tea stall owner washing glasses.
Children arguing over a cricket score.
A woman calling someone in for dinner.
Everything felt ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from her mother: Call when you reach.
Ananya looked at it for a moment, then locked her phone without replying.
She reached the main junction.
Cars rushed past. Bikes squeezed between lanes. Buses growled impatiently.
She stood at the edge of the crossing.
The pedestrian signal was red.
Her thoughts drifted back to the argument from the previous night.
“You don’t understand me,” she had said.
“You don’t listen,” her father had replied.
The signal turned green.
She stepped forward.
Halfway across, a horn blasted through the air.
Sharp.
Close.
Too close.
She turned her head.
Headlights rushed toward her.
Bright.
Blinding.
Endless.
For a second, everything slowed.
The car wasn’t stopping.
Her body froze.
Her mind went empty.
And then—
Darkness blinked across her vision.
When she opened her eyes—
She was standing at the side of the road.
Not in the middle.
Not on the ground.
Standing.
Her bag was still on her shoulder.
Cars moved normally.
People stood nearby waiting for the signal.
A man scrolled through his phone.
A girl beside her adjusted her backpack.
No one looked shocked.
No one looked scared.
Ananya blinked slowly.
Why was she standing here?
She looked at the road.
There was no broken glass.
No damaged vehicle.
No crowd.
The signal turned red again.
Everything looked peaceful.
Untouched.
“What just happened?” she whispered.
She tried to remember.
She remembered stepping forward.
She remembered light.
She remembered the sound of a horn.
After that—
Nothing.
Her mind felt blank.
Like a missing page in a book.
Someone behind her said, “Sister, move.”
She blinked and crossed the road slowly.
When she reached the other side, she turned back once more.
The junction looked ordinary.
As if nothing unusual had ever happened.
A strange chill ran through her.
It felt like something had happened.
Something important.
But there was no proof.
She continued toward the bus stop, convincing herself she had just panicked.
Maybe the car stopped in time.
Maybe she imagined it.
That had to be it.
She reached the hostel before sunset.
The building stood tall and pale under the fading sky.
Inside, the hostel was lively but organized.
Girls moved through corridors carrying buckets and books. Some were laughing. Some were already studying.
It didn’t feel chaotic.
It felt focused.
Her room was on the third floor.
When she pushed the door open, she paused.
It wasn’t empty.
Two bunk beds stood neatly against opposite walls.
Four cupboards lined beside them.
Four study tables placed near the window.
The room felt full — but not crowded.
Three girls were already inside.
One was arranging books in her cupboard.
One was sitting cross-legged on the lower bunk reading.
Another was pinning a timetable to the wall.
They all looked up when she entered.
“Hi,” the girl with the timetable said warmly. “You must be the fourth roommate.”
Ananya nodded softly. “Yes… I’m Ananya.”
“I’m Keerthi,” she smiled. “This is Nivetha. And that’s Sana.”
The girl reading gave a small wave without lifting her eyes fully from the book.
“We were just discussing study schedules,” Keerthi said casually. “We’re planning to keep the room peaceful after 9 pm. Is that okay?”
Ananya blinked.
Peaceful after 9 pm.
Timetables on the wall.
Books already arranged.
“Yes,” she replied quietly. “That’s good.”
She placed her bag near the empty lower bunk.
The mattress was neatly spread. A folded blanket waited at the corner.
The window beside the study tables let in soft evening light.
For a moment, she felt relieved.
This place looked disciplined.
Structured.
Focused.
Maybe this was what her parents meant.
Sana looked at her arm.
“You okay? You look a little pale.”
Ananya hesitated.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly.
She didn’t know how to explain something she herself didn’t understand.
The girls returned to their small discussions about classes, teachers, and assignments.
The room felt calm.
Safe.
Normal.
Too normal.
Later that night, the lights were switched off exactly at 10 pm.
The corridor quieted.
Only the soft sound of pages turning continued for a few minutes before even that stopped.
Ananya lay on the lower bunk, staring at the wooden plank above her.
She could hear Keerthi’s steady breathing from the opposite bed.
Someone shifted softly in sleep.
Her body felt strangely tired.
As if it had gone through something exhausting.
But she had only walked.
That was all.
She closed her eyes.
Immediately—
White light flashed behind her eyelids.
Sudden.
Sharp.
Blinding.
Her eyes flew open.
The room was dark.
Still.
Peaceful.
Her heart was pounding.
Why did it feel like she had forgotten something?
She lifted her hand slowly.
For a brief second—
She felt warmth around her wrist.
As if fingers had once wrapped around it.
Strong.
Protective.
She sat up suddenly.
Her roommates remained asleep.
The room was unchanged.
She looked at her wrist.
There was nothing there.
No mark.
No bruise.
Only the feeling.
