Aanya helps Priya make a report or confide in someone. Aanya revisits her own unresolved feelings.

It was Saturday morning when Aanya finally sat down with her journal open and her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves. The soft clinking of the ceiling fan above her was the only sound breaking the silence. Outside, the city stirred slowly—mothers calling children to breakfast, vendors shouting prices, the hum of motorbikes passing by.