It had been three days.
Three long, restless days since the gallery incident. Siyara hadn't returned to her studio-at least, not with the intention of creating anything. She stared at blank canvases the way some people stared at graves. Her fingers itched to paint, but every time she picked up the brush, the memory of his eyes flared behind her eyelids.
Aarav.
And the way he had looked at her-concerned, confused, captivated. She hated it. Hated that her body remembered him. Hated that she still saw that ruined painting every time she blinked.
"Siyu?" Nikita's voice pierced her fog.
"Hm?"
"I said we need to go out. You haven't stepped outside for three days. You need fresh air, or coffee, or a punch in the face."
Siyara cracked a small smile. "I'll take the coffee."
"Dress up. We're going to that new rooftop gallery. No art, just people."
"Fine," she mumbled.
Aarav wasn't supposed to be there either. He hadn't meant to follow her.
Not really.
He'd overheard a conversation between a gallery assistant and another artist-a mention of 'Siyara' attending a private showcase. He told himself he was only there to make sure she was okay.
That's all.
He wore black, stayed in the corner, blending with the shadows. But the moment she stepped onto the rooftop-he forgot how to breathe.
She looked different. Not soft. Not scared. She looked angry. Controlled. Guarded. But even anger looked beautiful on her.
He watched her laugh at something Nikita said. Watched her sip coffee slowly, as if time was hers to burn. Watched her spin a ring around her index finger while her eyes scanned the crowd.
Then-
She saw him. Their eyes locked..Her smile vanished. She turned. Grabbed her phone. Whispered to Nikita.
"Why is he here?" Siyara hissed, panic bubbling beneath her skin. "Is he following me?"
Nikita's expression sharpened. "That's the guy from the gallery?"
"Yes."
"Okay, stay here. I'll handle it."
"No-wait!"
But Nikita was already moving.
She stomped up to Aarav, arms crossed. "Are you stalking her?"
"I didn't come for her." He hesitated. "I mean... I did. But not to scare her. I just wanted to talk."
Nikita snorted. "Talk? You want to talk. you ruined her painting with your bodyweight."
"I said I was sorry."
"Sorry doesn't undo her painting "
"I didn't mean to hurt her."
"She doesn't care what you meant. Just stay away."
Nikita turned and walked away. But she didn't know Siyara was still watching.
Still listening. Still breaking.
Because part of her wanted to hear more.
But pride-Pride made her turn her back.
She didn't sleep that night. She didn't paint. She just sat by the window and watched the moon.
And somewhere in the city-
Aarav stared at the same moon, whispering to no one:
"You don't know me yet, Siyara. But I swear.....you will."
---------
The next morning, Siyara came downstairs after freshening up and sat at the dining table. Her dad was already there, he watching news in TV.
BREAKING NEWS | Five girls missing from the Suraksha Orphanage.
The TV reporter said loudly.
"Five young girls have been missing from Suraksha Orphanage for more than fifteen days. Despite police searches in nearby towns, forests, and abandoned buildings, there are no leads. No ransom calls, no signs of a struggle. It's as if the girls vanished into thin air."
Inspector Rajveer Singh appeared on screen. "We're treating this as a high-priority case," he said firmly.
(Caretaker to Reporter):
Caretaker Mrs. Kamala Said, "Please save the girls. They are only 16 years old. They don't have family. They are orphans. But we used to feel like family. They are my daughters. I missed their voices. I missed their laugh."
Reporter softly, "Did they ever mention anyone suspicious? Any reason they might have left?"
Caretaker shaking her head, voice trembling,
"They didn't ran. They were kidnapped. I know it. And I will not sleep until I see them walk through that gate again. Please... write that down. Let the world know-they matter."
Her hand stopped in mid-air. Her vision blurred. The memories of her past danced in her mind.
She looked up at the television. She knew.
She knew why the girls were missing.
She knew who kidnapped them.
She knew exactly where they were being kept.
Without finishing her meal, she grabbed her bag and rushed out of the house. Her hands trembled as she started her scooty and sped through the city outskirts.
She stopped in front of old and haunted house. Without hesitation, she entered. The place filled with darkness.
"I have to save them... even if it's dangerous " she said to herself.
Switching on her phone's flashlight and GPS, she quickly shared her location with her friend and typed a short message about her situation.
Then-
A sob echoed through the corridor.
A girl's voice.
She followed the sound, her heart pounding. It led her to a heavy wooden door.
"I don't want to live." a voice whispered from inside.
"They killed us," another girl cried.
"They tortured me... burned me with cigarettes... They beat me... just because I didn't obey."
"I want to escape from this place. I want to escape this help. I want to live normal life. Please somebody help us." The girls cried.
Siyara's legs buckled. Her heart broke, but she didn't let the pain stop her.
She picked up a large stone and started breaking the padlock. Her hands bled from the sharp edges, but she didn't stop-not until the lock shattered.
The door creaked open.
Three young girls sat huddled in a corner. As soon as they saw her, they flinched and whispered,
"Please don't hit us. We'll do what you say... please..."
Tears welled in Siyara's eyes. "I'm not here to hurt you. I came to save you," she whispered gently.
But something felt wrong. Only three girls.
She looked around. "Where are the other two?" she asked urgently.
One girl lifted her head. "I don't know, didi. A lady comes every day. She injects us... After that, five boys come, every hour. They... rape us. We're awake but can't move. The injections take away our strength."
She paused, trembling. "Two girls resisted once. They screamed. They tried to fought back. The woman and the men beat them."
Another sob. "They took them outside. We never saw them again."
Siyara fought back the scream in her throat. Her hands clenched. She wanted to collapse. But she didn't. Not now.
"We're leaving," she told them.
They nodded, eyes wide with hope.
---
Siyara's POV:
I don't know what to say. I'm broken too. But this moment isn't about me. I have to be strong-for them.
I don't know their names. I don't need to. Not right now.
"Come with me," I said softly. They followed without hesitation.
But luck wasn't on our side.
A shadow appeared in the corridor. A woman in her thirties was walking toward the room.
I turned quickly to the girls. "Do you trust me?" I asked.
They nodded instantly. "We trust you, didi. Just don't leave us. Please save us."
"You're like my sisters," I said, voice trembling but steady. "I'll protect you no matter what."
"Promise?" one girl asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.
"Promise."
The corridor was silent. The place filled with silence.
Siyara's heartbeat echoed in her ears like thunder. She pulled the girls behind her, their footsteps barely audible. They reached the old storeroom door-the one she had picked open minutes ago with trembling fingers.
As they entered, Siyara whispered, "Go back to your places. Lie down. Pretend like nothing happened."
The girls obeyed without hesitation. Fear had trained them for years to follow orders. But this time, they weren't following fear-they were following hope.
Siyara turned to close the door, her palms slick with sweat. The moment the lock clicked shut, a heavy bang rattled from outside. A woman's voice, sharp and furious, rang out through a phone speaker.
"Who broke the padlock? Who the hell opened this door?!"
Siyara froze, her breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice. The woman who ruled this place like a slaughterhouse. The devil dressed in a nurse's uniform.
The door burst open.
Siyara stumbled back as the woman stormed in, still on a video call, her camera pointing at the broken lock. Her eyes scanned the room and stopped on Siyara.
"You little whore," she spat.
Siyara didn't wait. Her hands fumbled blindly along the floor until they found a jagged stone. She snatched it up-
and swung.
Crack.
The stone smashed into the woman's forehead. Blood spilled instantly, dark and sticky, running down her face. She staggered back, her phone slipping from her hand and skidding across the floor.
Siyara didn't stop to think. She spun toward the girls.
"Get up. Now. Move!"
The girls bolted, barefoot, their steps almost soundless.
"Don't stop," Siyara whispered harshly as they ran past her. "No matter what happens, just keep going."
Then came the sound-footsteps. Heavy. Male.
Two men stepped out of the shadows. One wore a security badge.
"Where do you think you're going?" the taller one growled.
Siyara shoved the girls behind her, arms spread wide like a shield.
"Run!" she shouted. "I said RUN!"
The girls scattered down the corridor. The tall man lunged for them, but Siyara ducked out of his reach.
The other man-a stocky brute-moved faster. A flash of silver gleamed in his hand. A knife.
Siyara cried out as the blade cut across her side. Fire licked her waist, hot and burning, but she bit down on the pain. She'd lived with worse.
Blood filled her mouth as she gritted her teeth. She wouldn't stop now.
Her hand shot into her coat pocket. Sand. Dirt. Dust-whatever she had grabbed from the floor.
She flung it straight into the tall man's eyes. He roared, stumbling back, clawing at his face.
The stocky one smirked at her. "So... you're a fighter, huh?"
Siyara spat, her voice low and sharp.
"I'm not scared of pigs."
He lunged at her again, but Siyara drove her knee hard between his legs.
He collapsed like a sack of bricks.
Before she could even catch her breath, the other man grabbed her by the hair and slammed her against the wall.
She gasped, pain shooting through her ribs. Her head spun, vision blurring.
His grip tightened. His breath was hot on her face.
"You should've stayed in your place, girl," he sneered. "You think you can play hero?"
Then-
a tiny voice broke the tension.
"Didi."
Siyara turned her head just enough to see a small hand stretch forward. In it was the same stone she'd used before.
Her eyes locked with the girl's. No fear. Only stubborn, quiet defiance.
The girl tossed the stone. Siyara caught it-
and slammed it straight into the man's jaw.
He roared, clutching his face, blood running down his chin.
Siyara didn't stop. She grabbed the little girl's hand, yanked her close, and ran.
And then-
a sharp siren split the air. Loud. Piercing.
It echoed through the narrow street like a blade cutting skin.
Siyara froze for a second, her heart pounding.
Police.
---
The realization hit her like a slap. The siren's wail tore through her ears until it was all she could hear. Her body was giving out-bones heavy, skin sticky with blood. She staggered forward, her heart pounding like a drum.
"SIYARA!"
The voice cut through the noise. Familiar. Desperate.
Through her blurred vision, she saw a figure rushing toward her-her friend. Panic burned in their eyes. And behind them, red and blue lights flashed, the police van cutting through the chaos.
Siyara's legs gave out.
She collapsed just as her friend caught her, arms shaking under her weight.
"She's bleeding! She's losing blood!" her friend screamed, voice breaking.
Two officers sprinted over. One knelt, pressing fingers to her pulse. The other shouted into his radio for medical support. Around them, chaos exploded-girls were led out of the building, some sobbing, some hollow and silent.
The nightmare seemed to be ending.
But not for all of them.
Because two girls were still missing. No sound. No trace. No footprints. Just gone.
Siyara's lips parted, but no words came. Her body was freezing, her skin cold to the touch. Her eyes fluttered shut.
Where are they? she thought, a single jagged fear tearing through her chest. Where are the girls?
Then-darkness.
She was lifted into an ambulance with two of the rescued girls. Blood soaked the stretcher. Her friend clung to her side, refusing to let go.
"Hold on. You're safe now," an officer repeated, his voice firm but fading into nothingness.
Siyara couldn't hear him.
Her blood pressure was crashing. Her pulse grew weaker. Her skin turned pale as the world slipped away.
---
The nights blurred together.
Siyara hadn't moved for twenty-seven days.
She lay motionless in the hospital bed, her body swallowed by white sheets, machines beeping softly around her. Stitches and bandages covered her wounds, but inside, she was fighting battles no one could see. Room 304 had become her world-silent, sterile, endless.
Her adoptive parents, Kiran and Mahesh, hadn't left her side once in all those days.
That morning, the doctor had said the same thing again, his voice gentle as he adjusted the IV line.
"Her pulse is stable, but she hasn't responded to any stimuli. We're doing everything we can."
Mahesh sat slumped by the window, his face hidden in his hands. His beard had grown wild, his shirt rumpled and stained with old coffee. He looked like a man carrying the weight of the world.
Beside the bed, Kiran stroked her daughter's forehead with trembling fingers. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
"Wake up, beti... please," she whispered. "Just open your eyes."
---
Two Days After the Incident
The hospital was chaos. Police had brought in three girls, all unconscious, half-dressed, bruised, and terrified. One of them was bleeding heavily from a deep cut across her waist. Siyara.
"We found them on the eastern edge of Sector 9. One girl was losing blood fast-looks like she was attacked with a blade," an officer told the staff grimly.
"Any sign of who did this?" a nurse asked.
"Nothing. And the two girls Siyara dragged out of that place-they were gone by the time we got there."
Doctors rushed them into surgery. Siyara's condition was critical-massive blood loss, organs in shock. She slipped into a coma during the operation.
---
Day 14
Kiran sat at Siyara's bedside, holding a torn page from her daughter's notebook. The words on it made her throat ache:
"Maybe I'm not meant to have a normal life. But I'll fight for one. Even if no one stands beside me."
"You're not alone, my child," Kiran whispered, tracing the ink with her fingertips.
Mahesh returned from yet another insurance office, his face worn with exhaustion. He sat beside her and muttered, "What kind of monster could do this to her?"
"I don't know," Kiran said softly. "But when she wakes up... we'll make sure she never goes near that darkness again."
---
Day 32
A faint whisper slipped from Siyara's cracked lips.
Her eyelids trembled, then slowly lifted. The ceiling fan spun above her, and the sunlight seeping through the window stung her eyes.
Kiran gasped, clutching the side of the bed. "Mahesh! Come here-Siyara... she's-"
"Doctor! Someone call the doctor!"
Siyara tried to speak, but no sound came. Her voice was lost after thirty-two silent nights.
A tear slid down her cheek. Her chest rose sharply-once, then again.
The machines around her blared as her vitals spiked. Nurses rushed in, and the doctor steadied her wrist, checking her pulse.
"Siyara... do you know where you are?" he asked softly.
Her lips moved, barely forming a word. "...Home...?"
---
Later That Night
Siyara lay awake, dazed, her body heavy, her throat raw. Every muscle ached. Kiran hadn't stopped crying since the moment she woke up.
"You don't have to talk, beti," Kiran whispered, brushing her hair back. "Just rest. We're here. You're safe now."
Siyara blinked slowly, her lips trembling. "The girls..." she breathed.
Mahesh leaned closer, his voice low, careful. "They found you, but the other two... they're still missing. Do you remember anything at all?"
"I... I remember running... and then... nothing," she murmured.
"That's okay," Kiran said quickly, holding her hand tighter. "You're alive. That's all that matters."
