Veil

26th May 2002.

The small room was filled with an unnatural stillness, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the soft creaking of the ceiling fan. In the corner, a pale figure stood motionless, her tear-streaked face hidden beneath a curtain of long, unkempt hair. Vareya's trembling hands clutched her phone, its screen still glowing from the message that had shattered her last hope.

"I trusted him," she whispered to herself, her voice breaking under the weight of betrayal.

In the darkness, she felt a presence-unseen but overwhelming. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating her, as if the very air was condemning her for what had happened. The recording, the blackmail, the shame-everything was too much.

The whispers in her mind grew louder, darker, until they consumed her completely. With one last look at the world she once thought would be hers, she stepped onto the stool beneath the fan and tied the fabric tight around her neck.

As her life drained away, Vareya's final thought was not of regret or fear but of her daughter-the child she would never hold.

26th May 2019.

Viha didn't know why she was drawn to the old, dusty cabinet in her rented room. Kota was full of ancient, forgotten places like this, where years of abandoned dreams hung in the air like cobwebs. But this cabinet... it called to her.

Her fingers brushed against its rough, weathered surface. The lock was rusty, almost like it had been untouched for decades. With a soft click, it opened, and she was met with the scent of aged paper and something more-something she couldn't quite place.