The world outside was buzzing, moving, shifting… but for Zoya, time had stopped.

The moment she was taken from Mumbai felt like a ripped page from her story — sudden, harsh, and unfinished.

She sat on the edge of her bed in her childhood room, a place that used to bring comfort, but now felt like a gilded cage. Her fingers traced the carved initials on the bedpost — a younger version of herself had once believed this house was home. But not anymore.

Now, it was a place where her voice was silenced.

The door had been locked since morning. She wasn’t allowed to step outside. Her phone was taken away. Her calls monitored. Her future, once finally beginning to take shape, had been torn away — again.

But she had one lifeline.

Her cousin sister, Nida.

Nida had always been the quiet rebel. The one who noticed everything but rarely said anything. Until now. She had slipped a spare phone to Zoya the day before. “Only for emergencies,” she had whispered.

Tonight was an emergency.

Zoya sat, clutching the phone, hands trembling.

She dialed.

Once.

Twice.

He didn’t pick up.

Her heart dropped. Was he asleep? Was he busy? Was he… giving up?

But then — the screen lit up.

Akif calling...

She picked it up with a tearful gasp. “Akif…”

“Zoya,” his voice cracked on the other end, raw and shaken. “Jaan, are you okay? I was in a meeting. I ran out the second I saw your call. Are you hurt? Did they—”

“No, I’m okay,” she interrupted softly. “Just… trapped.”

His silence was heavy. Then a deep, exhaled breath. “I should’ve come already. I should’ve torn down the whole city if I had to.”

She smiled sadly. “You didn’t. Because you’re building something. Something big. Something that’ll make everything worth it.”

He was quiet again.

“I don’t want to be the reason you stop,” she whispered. “You’ve dreamed about this long before you dreamed of me.”

“You are my dream now.”

The words silenced her.

“Zoya, I swear to you,” he said, voice shaking, “I’m coming. I don’t care if I have to break every lock, face every monster. Just give me a few more days. I have one final meeting — the one that’ll decide everything. I’ll come after that. I’ll take you away. Forever.”

She pressed her forehead against the cold wall, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I’ll survive till then,” she said softly. “I promise.”

“I hate that you even have to say that.”

“I love that I have you to say it to.”

He choked back something — a sob maybe, or a scream.

“Do you still keep that picture?” she asked suddenly.

There was a pause. “Of course. The one where you wore that messy bun and stole my hoodie?”

She laughed weakly. “I looked like a mess.”

“You looked like mine.”

A silence fell between them again. But this one wasn’t empty. It was filled with unsaid promises, unshed tears, and love too loud for words.

“I’ll wait, Akif,” she said at last.

“And I’ll come,” he whispered. “Even if it kills me.”

The call ended an hour later.

Zoya hid the phone back in her pillowcase, crawled under the blanket, and stared at the ceiling.

Outside, the world didn’t know what she was surviving.

Inside, she was counting seconds — not just to freedom, but to him.