But Ishika didn’t move.
She stood frozen in the middle of the room, the sharp echo of his command still ringing in her ears. Her heart thudded against her ribs, but her feet refused to obey. Her eyes were fixed on him—not with fear this time, but with something heavier. A boiling frustration that had long been buried beneath years of silence and obedience.
She wanted to scream, but her voice was lodged in her throat. Why was he always like this? Cold, commanding, unreachable. Never once did he ask her what she wanted. Never once did he care if she was happy. She had spent her whole life doing exactly as he wished, never questioning, never resisting. And yet, it had never been enough.
The weight of all those unspoken words pressed against her chest. Something snapped.
“I... don’t… want to,” she said, her voice trembling but firm.
Her father turned sharply. “What?”
“I don’t want to change my school,” she repeated.
There was a pause—just long enough to register the shift. For a second, his eyes flickered with surprise. Then, just as quickly, his face twisted into anger.
“Did you just deny what I said,” he growled, “or did I hear it wrong?”
“No, you heard it right,” she said. “I said I don’t want to change my school.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did I ask whether you wanted to or not?”
The words hit her like a slap. Her throat tightened as tears welled in her eyes—not from sadness, but from the sheer fury building inside her.
“Oh! Right,” she said bitterly. “I forgot—I’m not allowed to have an opinion.”
“You’re right. You don’t,” he said with a stone-cold face.
“Of course! Why would I? Who am I anyway?” she burst out. “Just the daughter of Digvijay Thakur. A name, a position—but not a person. I don’t even have an existence of my own, do I?”
“What are you trying to say?” he snapped. “If you have something to say, say it clearly.”
“I want to be free.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Free? What do you mean by that? Are you saying we’re imprisoning you?”
Ishika stood taller now, her voice growing steadier with each word. “Father, I want to live my own life. I want to choose what I like. I want to make real friends—not fake, arrogant brats from elite families. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re calling them arrogant? Disgusting? Then what are you? Don’t forget—you’re one of them.”
She met his glare head-on. “Yes,” she said coldly. “Unfortunately, I am. I hate that I am one of them. I hate that I belong in this world—your world. A world that never cared how I felt. I hate it.”
Her father’s eyes turned bloodshot. In two quick steps, he crossed the room toward her. His hand rose, his palm open and trembling in fury—but just as it reached the height of a slap, he stopped. His hand hovered midair for a breathless moment… then slowly lowered.
His voice came out low, tight, and dangerous. “Get out.”
“Dad—” she whispered, a crack forming in her voice.
“I said get out!” he thundered.
The finality in his voice pierced through her.
But Ishika didn’t move.
Her feet stayed rooted to the spot, defying her father’s command. She didn’t even get the chance to argue further—within moments, he stormed toward her, grabbed her wrist tightly, and dragged her out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind her with a thunderous bang, echoing through the hallway like a verdict.
“Ishika, what happened?” a gentle voice called out.
She turned to see her mother standing at the end of the corridor. Worry clouded her soft features. She had clearly heard the shouting.
“Nothing,” Ishika muttered, avoiding her mother’s eyes. “I’m going to my room.”
“But you haven’t had dinner yet,” her mother said, stepping closer.
“I’m not hungry.”
Her mother hesitated. “But—”
“Mom,” Ishika interrupted, her voice weary, “I just want to be alone.”
Her mother stopped, understanding glimmering in her eyes, but she didn’t protest again.
Ishika walked away, each step heavier than the last. When she finally reached her room, she shut the door quietly behind her and collapsed onto her bed. The silence of the room felt too loud. The weight of everything pressed down on her chest.
She couldn’t sleep—not even close. She lay there for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind spinning in circles. Uncertainty clawed at her. She didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. Would she be forced to leave her school? Would her father send her away without listening to a word?
Tears welled in her eyes again. She buried her face deep into the pillow, her voice muffled and cracking.
“I don’t want to go anywhere else… finally, I have friends who care about me. Truly care…” she whispered between sobs. “I don’t want to lose them.”
The thought of starting over somewhere new—somewhere cold and unfamiliar—terrified her. It wasn’t just a school to her. It was a small corner of the world where she had finally begun to feel a little less invisible.
That night, Ishika cried until her chest ached. The pillow beneath her soaked up all the words she could never say aloud. And when morning light finally touched her window, her eyes were still wide open.
The next morning, Ishika woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing beside her pillow. She rubbed her tired eyes, squinting at the bright screen.
It was Khushi calling.
She picked it up, her voice still thick with sleep and exhaustion.
“Hello?”
“Ishika?” Khushi’s voice came through, gentle and concerned.
“Yeah… what happened?”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Ishika sat up slowly. Her eyes still burned from all the crying she had done the night before, and her throat ached from holding in too many emotions for too long.
“Yeah… I guess so,” she murmured.
“What happened yesterday? You just left in a hurry. We didn’t get to talk properly.”
Ishika hesitated a moment, then told her everything — the argument with her father, the shouting, the unbearable feeling of not being heard, and the fear of having to leave her school.
There was a pause on the other end.
“So... are you coming to school today or not?” Khushi finally asked.
“I don’t know,” Ishika whispered.
“Alright. Just take care of yourself, okay? Don’t let it eat you up.”
“Yeah... Listen,” Ishika said, lowering her voice a little.
“Hmm?”
“Can you… tell Aarav?”
“Tell him? About all this?”
“Yeah. Just in short. I don’t want to hide it, but I’m not ready to talk to him myself.”
“You sure?” Khushi asked gently.
“Yes. He should know.”
“Alright. I’ll tell him,” she promised.
Ishika ended the call and slowly got out of bed. Her legs felt weak, but she forced herself to get ready and walk downstairs.
At the dining table, her father was sitting with the newspaper spread out in front of him, his expression unreadable. Her mother looked up the moment Ishika entered.
“You okay?” she asked.
Ishika nodded and sat down quietly.
They ate in heavy silence. No one said anything until Ishika had just finished and was about to get up.
“Ishika,” her father said suddenly, still looking at the newspaper.
She froze.
“Yes… Dad?”
“I spoke to your mother this morning.” His voice was calm, unreadable. “You can continue studying at your current school.”
Ishika blinked.
“…What?”
Her gaze shifted toward her mother, who gave her a soft smile and a tiny nod.
“Really, Dad?” she asked, unsure if she had heard right.
“Yes,” he replied simply.
“Thank you! Thank you, Dad!” Ishika said, her voice finally carrying a spark of life.
He lowered the newspaper slightly. “You can have your friends. Just make sure you don’t create any trouble. I don’t want any sort of chaos, understood?”
“Yes, Dad. I understand.”
Ishika couldn’t believe it. After everything she’d said the night before, she hadn’t expected him to listen. But maybe, just maybe, something had reached him.
She rushed back to her room, called Khushi, and told her everything. Then, with a smile that had been missing for days, she began getting ready for school.
After a long, restless night, Aarav finally rose with the first light of morning. His mind had been a storm of thoughts about Ishika and her father, replaying every possibility and fear until sleep became impossible. Dark shadows lingered under his eyes as he got ready for school, his movements slow, almost mechanical.
By the time he reached the school gates, the courtyard was alive with students chattering in little groups. That’s when he spotted Khushi walking ahead, her familiar ponytail swaying with each step.
"Hey, Khushi!" Aarav called out, his voice breaking through the morning hum.
She turned at once and smiled, walking over. "Oh, good morning, Aarav," she greeted warmly.
"Good morning," he replied quickly, leaning in with mild urgency. "Have you heard anything from Ishika?"
Khushi nodded. "Oh, yes. I talked to her."
His shoulders eased a little. "And? What did she say?"
Khushi began explaining everything Ishika had told her about the conversation with her father. Each word she spoke chipped away at the weight pressing on Aarav’s chest.
"Ishika said I should tell you everything," Khushi added with a playful smirk, "but in short."
"Really?" Aarav asked, half relieved, half curious.
"Yeah. Now, according to her, you have a little idea about the whole thing, okay?"
"Yeah, got it," he said with a faint smile.
The two walked together to the classroom. A few minutes later, Ishika herself stepped in, her presence immediately brightening the air.
"Good morning," Aarav greeted.
"Good morning," she replied, her tone cheerful.
"Are you okay now?" he asked gently.
"Okay? I’m really happy," she said, her face lighting up with a genuine smile.
"Glad to hear that," he replied, unable to hide his relief.
But Ishika’s smile shifted into concern. "What happened to you? You’ve got dark circles."
"Oh, it’s nothing," Aarav dismissed quickly.
Before he could change the subject, a hand landed on his shoulder. "He was really worried about you," came Vivan’s teasing voice from behind.
"Oh really, Aarav?" Ishika tilted her head at him.
"Yeah, yeah, he was so worried he didn’t sleep the whole night," Shreya chimed in as she approached, her tone dripping with mischief.
"Here you go again," Aarav muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Aww, Aarav, really?" Ishika teased, joining in.
"Not you too," he said, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Okay, okay," Ishika laughed.
"Hey, by the way, Ishika—what happened yesterday?" Shreya asked, leaning closer.
"Yeah, why did you leave like that?" Vivan added.
"Actually…" Ishika began, but before she could continue, the teacher’s voice rang out, calling everyone to attention. The moment slipped away, replaced by the rustle of notebooks and the scraping of chairs.
"Good morning, students," the teacher greeted as she stepped into the classroom, her voice carrying the familiar blend of warmth and authority.
The room instantly quieted, chairs scraped against the floor as everyone hurried to their seats. Aarav leaned back in his chair, still half lost in thoughts from earlier, until the teacher’s next words caught his attention.
"I have some good news for all of you," she announced, a small smile tugging at her lips. "We’re going on a school trip next week."
The room erupted into a chorus of excited voices. Laughter, whispers, and cheers bounced off the walls as the announcement spread from desk to desk like wildfire.
"Where are we going?" a curious voice called from the back.
"We’re going on a mountain trip," the teacher replied, holding up a slim booklet. "And all the further details are written in this guide."
She began passing the guidebooks down each row, the thin pages fluttering as they exchanged hands. Aarav took his copy and glanced at the cover. A breathtaking photograph of snow-dusted peaks under a brilliant blue sky stretched across the front page.
Beside him, Ishika leaned closer, her eyes wide with wonder. "It’s really beautiful," she murmured.
"Yeah," Aarav agreed quietly, still admiring the picture.
"All the details and instructions are written inside," the teacher continued, her tone turning practical again. "Please read it carefully. I will be going with you, so make sure you’re prepared."
"Thank you, teacher," the class chorused in unison, their earlier excitement still bubbling in the air. Aarav’s fingers lingered on the cool, glossy paper, a faint smile forming as he imagined what the trip might bring.
