The Soul's Unfinished Story
Prologue 4
The air is still. INARA walks slowly down the grand hallway of her father’s corporate building. Her heels echo, sharp and lonely. The light from the windows casts long shadows across the floor.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
For days, I wandered the empty halls of my father’s office...
His presence was everywhere—clinging to walls, stitched into silence.
She stops in front of a tall door. Her hand hovers before gently touching the wood.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
Framed awards, golden plaques, his legacy... all meaningless now.
His empire was gone.
And so was I.
The door creaks open. INARA steps inside slowly. The air is heavy with the scent of sandalwood. Dust dances in sunbeams. His chair. His desk. His reading glasses, untouched.
She approaches the desk, fingertips brushing the surface.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
He always sat right there…
Pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose…
Gave me that look—quiet pride, never said aloud.
(Her breath catches. She steps back, clutching her chest.)
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
But he wouldn’t walk in.
Because he was gone.
And I…
I had destroyed everything he built.
She stumbles backward, gasping. Panic sets in. Her vision spins. She hurries out.
The elevator ascends. INARA stands still, arms crossed tightly. Her reflection in the mirrored walls is pale, broken.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
The weight of failure…
It was suffocating
The door opens with a groan. Wind rushes past. The city below sparkles like a galaxy. INARA steps forward.
Her hair whips around her face. Her coat flutters. The edge looms close.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
I walked forward.
One step.
Then another.
She grips the railing. Looks down. Cars move like ants. The world goes on. A life she no longer feels a part of.
Inara Shekhawat (FL)
One more step.
The wind howls—then silence.
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