Shadows Of The Stumps

The Princess

The world outside was still asleep. But inside her, everything was wide awake.

Meera jolted up with a sharp inhale - sweat-damp curls sticking to her forehead, her chest rising too fast, too uneven. A faint echo of a scream lingered at the back of her throat, but it didn't come out.

The ceiling above her was dim, just barely lit by the soft glow of the streetlamp outside the window. The curtains danced gently in the breeze. The air smelled of comfort.

But her body? It screamed.

Her leg burned with that familiar, cruel pulse of post-injury flare. Her eyes stung. And her arms instinctively reached out - searching.

No Eva's cry.
No Athiya's whispered scolding.
No Hardik's sleepy mutter beside her.
No Arjun pacing like he always did when he couldn't sleep.

Just her. Alone. Finally.

She rested back against the pillow, gritting her teeth as the pain in her leg sharpened. The painkillers had worn off, and the night was far from over.

She tried breathing slowly.
Didn't work.
Tried blinking the thoughts away.
Worse.

Because now her mind was racing.

Anamika.

The image of her - cold, still, wrapped in Meera's shawl inside that godforsaken tavern - surfaced like a ghost.

She'd held her best friend's hand till the very last second. And now all she had left was the grip memory, the lingering warmth that didn't even exist anymore.

A sob nearly escaped her lips. But she pressed her fist against her mouth.

Then came another thought.

Arjun.

Arjun, bleeding. Arjun furious. Arjun breaking protocol to find her.
The way he carried her. The way he looked when she woke up.

The way he might be suspended.

Because of her.

Meera rubbed her forehead.

She had promised herself she wouldn't spiral. That she'd focus on recovery, on gratitude.

But here, in this silent room, at 3:40 AM, none of that worked. Because this was the time the mind liked to whisper truths no one wanted to hear.

What if I cost him his job?
What if I don't walk the same again?
What if the war never leaves my body?

She turned slightly - gritting through the pain - and reached for her water bottle. Her hands trembled as she poured herself half a glass and sipped.

The door cracked open with a soft click.

"Athu?" she asked instinctively, her voice hoarse.

Athiya peeked her head in, eyes still puffy with sleep, her oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder. "I knew it," she muttered as she walked in, crossing her arms. "I told Rahul you'd pull a 4 AM overthink session the minute we all let our guards down."

Meera looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "Couldn't sleep."

Athiya didn't respond right away - just crossed the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently reached for Meera's hair, brushing it back from her forehead.

"Leg's hurting?" she asked softly.

Meera nodded.

"And the brain won't stop talking?"

Another nod.

Athiya sighed and tucked her legs up onto the bed beside her. "Move a little," she murmured.