Chapter 28:Truth Echoes Softly

The morning light slipped gently through the blinds of Khan Global Enterprises, painting delicate stripes of gold across polished desks and glass panels. The air held a strange calm—the kind that comes just before a storm.

Andaleeb walked into the office without her usual chaos.

No hurried steps.

No whispered greetings to plants or a mischievous smile tossed at Aryan.

Just silence.

Her heels made soft sounds against the tiled floor as she crossed the hallway, her blue dupatta trailing behind her like a fading memory.

Inside the glass-walled office, Zayan watched.

He had always watched her—curiously, irritably, helplessly.

Once, she had entered like a misplaced comet, shaking up his rigid galaxy with her ridiculous humor, misplaced files, and kind chaos.

Now, she walked like a shadow of that comet. Burnt out. Dimmed.

And for reasons he couldn't explain to anyone—not even Aryan—he felt like he was the one losing gravity.

When Aryan strolled in and caught the tension, he leaned against Zayan's desk and asked quietly, "Did something happen between you two?"

Zayan didn't answer.

He just stared through the glass at the desk where she sat motionless.

An hour passed.

She didn't look up.

Didn't once glance at his office.

Zayan finally folded a small slip of paper. It wasn't dramatic. No flourishes. Just a few words written with unsteady fingers.

He stepped out, ignoring the wide eyes of passing staff, and walked to her desk. She didn't acknowledge him. Didn't flinch.

He placed the note beside her keyboard.

Then walked away.

Andaleeb hesitated before opening it.

Her fingers trembled slightly.

When you're ready, I'll be here. Not to interrogate—just to stay.

She blinked rapidly. Her heart fluttered like pages in a storm.

But she didn't look toward his office.

Not yet.

Rooftop Talk – Eman and Andaleeb

That afternoon, the rooftop of Zareen's Café looked nothing like Earth.

It was quiet. Washed in soft light. A few dying plants shivered in clay pots. A broken wind chime danced uselessly in the breeze. A place that always felt like a secret outpost above the world.

Andaleeb stood at the edge, leaning against the iron railing, eyes tracing the horizon like it might offer answers.

Eman sat cross-legged behind her, sipping warm soda from a paper cup. Her eyes never left her sister.

"You're not okay," Eman finally said.

Andaleeb didn't look back. "No one is. We just get better at faking it."

Eman sighed. "You're scared."

"Yes."

"For yourself?"

Andaleeb's shoulders dropped. "For him."

A pause.

Eman placed the cup down. "Haroon found something again. Satellite's still watching. The warning level dipped this morning but jumped again after your interaction with Zayan yesterday."

Andaleeb finally turned. "They're monitoring me more?"

"They're calling it 'sustained emotional fusion.'"

"What does that even mean?" she asked bitterly.

Eman looked up, voice flat. "It means... the more he anchors you, the harder you'll fall if they force a memory reset. And the harder he will fall when you vanish."

Andaleeb closed her eyes. "I don't want to choose."

"You might have to," Eman said softly. "Disappearance. Or survival."

Andaleeb's voice cracked. "What about Zayan?"

Eman hesitated. Her eyes softened. "What about him?"

"One heart can't be worth risking an entire galaxy."

Eman stood and walked over to her. "It shouldn't be."

Andaleeb gave a broken laugh. "I wish I didn't care."

"But you do," Eman whispered. "Because you're human. Or... close enough."

Haroon & Zayan – Surveillance Leak

Deep beneath the main office, the underground floor used for security archives buzzed with low light and old machines.

Haroon pulled a flash drive from his pocket and slid it into Zayan's laptop.

"It was routed through a ghost IP," he said, scrolling fast. "Bounced through ten proxies. But here—see this? One hop went through a static address linked to Aleena's old boardroom device."

Zayan didn't blink. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen.

"She's trying to pin everything on Andaleeb," he said coldly.

Haroon nodded. "But it's deeper now. I traced an external call during the file manipulation. Not local. It links to a private cybersecurity contractor... or maybe government."

Zayan stood abruptly. "So she's not just sabotaging for ego anymore."

Haroon looked up. "No. This is strategic. Someone wants Andaleeb removed."

Zayan clenched his fists. "She won't win. Not while I'm here."

Aleena's New Game

In a private executive lounge overlooking the city skyline, Aleena Hashmi reclined on a velvet chair, swirling a glass of wine as if the whole world was an opera she conducted.

Across from her, an older board member listened carefully.

"I'm just saying," Aleena said with a gentle smile, "don't you think the sudden rise in instability has strange timing?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Instability?"

"The leaks. The glitches. The investor scares." She sipped her wine. "All coincidentally beginning the day she walked into this company."

"She's only an intern."

"Exactly. Which makes it all the more... unsettling, don't you think?"

He said nothing, but she could see the doubt start to grow.

Later that night, as Aleena reviewed files on her tablet, her phone buzzed.

An anonymous message blinked on screen:

You're being watched too.

Her hand froze mid-air.

The color drained from her face.

For the first time in months, her mask cracked.

Garden of Quiet Things

The rear garden of Khan Global was an often-forgotten corner, tucked behind delivery ramps and steel doors. It wasn't beautiful—overgrown hedges, dying flowers—but it was quiet.

That night, Andaleeb sat there with her knees pulled to her chest, head resting against the wall. Her pendant glowed faintly against her skin.

She didn't hear Zayan approach.

But she felt him.

He didn't say anything. Just sat down beside her, leaving a respectful space.

They stared ahead. Listening to wind. Leaves. Distant sounds of the city.

And then—

"I might not be around much longer," she whispered.

Zayan didn't react. Not outwardly.

"I'm not sure if I'll disappear," she said, "or be erased. But... it's coming."

Still, he said nothing.

Andaleeb smiled bitterly. "Maybe disappearing is safer. For everyone."

Then his voice, quiet and unshaken: "Then I'll hold on tighter."

She turned, startled. "Why would you do that? You barely know me."

Zayan looked at her. "That's not true."

Her voice broke. "I'm not who you think I am."

"I don't care."

"I'm not normal."

"I don't want normal."

She looked down. "If they erase me… you won't even remember."

Zayan hesitated. Then reached over and touched her pendant lightly. "Then I'll find you again."

Tears slipped down her cheek.

And for once, she didn't wipe them away.

She didn't hug him.

Didn't run.

She just stayed.

And he stayed with her.

And in the stillness, the truth echoed softly between them.

Not loud enough for satellites to catch.

But loud enough for hearts to hear.

End of Chapter 28