[Formerly known as 'Trinkets']
Mahika and Amoli can't stand each other, but that's not the only thing they have in common.
Mahika treats Amoli like she's childish. Amoli thinks Mahika is a stuck-up prude. But Mahika's best friend and Amoli's brother...
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Saturday comes and goes in a haze of unfinished coursework and anxious energy. Mahika redesigns the same small apartment layout six different ways, each one feeling more wrong than the last. She catches herself designing spaces that Amoli would like—built-in bookshelves, reading nooks with good light, cozy corners that feel safe—and has to step away from her drafting table before the wanting becomes too much to bear.
Her phone sits silent on her desk, screen black and unforgiving.
Sunday morning, she's lying in bed staring at the ceiling when her mother pokes her head through the door.
"I'm going to the market," she says. "Want to come? Fresh air might help."
Mahika shakes her head, pulls the covers higher. "I'm good."
Her mother lingers in the doorway for a moment, like she wants to say something else, but eventually she just nods and leaves. The front door closes with a soft click, and then the apartment settles into the kind of quiet that makes every thought feel too loud.
Mahika checks her phone. Nothing.
She opens Instagram, scrolls mindlessly through stories of people living their lives; friends at brunch, couples taking selfies, families celebrating small moments. The algorithm shows her a post from someone in her program about a design internship they landed, and the casual happiness in it makes her chest ache.
When did everything become so difficult?
She's about to close the app when a story catches her eye. It's from Naina, a simple photo of coffee cups on a table. Four cups. Hotel room service.
No Amoli visible in the frame, but Mahika finds herself staring at the image anyway, looking for clues. The cups are barely touched. One of them has lipstick marks that could be Naina's, could be Amoli's.
The timestamp says thirty minutes ago.
Before she can stop herself, Mahika is typing a message to Naina: hey, hope hope you guys are doing okay. let me know if you need anything.
The response comes within minutes: Mahiiii we're managing, thank you :( how are YOU doing? you sound stressed.
Mahika stares at the message. Naina has always been able to read between the lines. It's what made her such a good match for Akash, she thinks, who Mahika has learned tends to keep his worries to himself. Even through text, she can apparently sense Mahika's spiraling.
She types back: I'm okay. just worried about Amo. Then, because she can't help herself: how is she doing?
The typing indicator appears and disappears several times. Finally: Not great, babe. But I think you probably know that.
Mahika's chest tightens, and she takes a deep breath before typing out the next texts: did something else happen? after she left here the other night? or before? something felt off but she hasn't told me
