Chapter 2: Ghosts in the Hallway

The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor—sharp, hollow, like they were chasing her. Shweta adjusted the strap of her backpack, eyes flicking across the familiar rows of lockers. The hallway hadn’t changed, but something in her had.

She turned a corner—and froze.

There he was.

Siddharth Verma.

Back from Los Angeles. Taller, jaw more defined, hair falling just enough into his eyes to look unbothered. But it was the coldness in his gaze that stopped her breath. It wasn’t just time that had passed. Something inside him had hardened.

And just like that, the air turned heavy.

In a blink, she was fifteen again.

The sound of feet on stairs. Laughter. A sharp scream.

Then—crash. Silence.

And Siddharth, towering over her, voice trembling with rage:

“You chose your cake over her. She reached out to you—where were you?”

That moment—the moment everything shattered—came back in fragments. She remembered the string lights swaying. The crowd screaming. Her hands sticky with frosting. Ananya’s tiny fingers stretching out.

Then nothing.

Just guilt. And Siddharth’s glare.

“Woah,” a voice interrupted her spiral.

Sahil. Her younger brother.

He stood beside her, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Siddharth too.

“He really came back.”

She nodded slowly. “When?”

“Last week. No one told me either. Guess we’re in for a ride.”

A bitter smile touched her lips. “We always are.”

Sahil hesitated. “Shweta… he still blames you.”

“I know.”

Before either could say more, a familiar, sing-song voice pierced the moment.

“Sahil! You ignored all my texts last night!”

Mohini.

The former best friend turned smiling backstabber. She clung to Sahil’s arm with forced sweetness, her eyes landing on Shweta like they were scanning for flaws.

“Oh. Shweta. Still around, huh?”

Fake concern curled her voice. “Wasn’t sure you’d survive another year with all those... past burdens.”

Shweta gave her a calm look. “Well, lucky for you—I did.”

Mohini’s smile faltered for a fraction. But she recovered quickly, flipping her hair as the warning bell rang.

Sahil gave Shweta a quiet squeeze on the shoulder and left. Mohini followed him, leaving Shweta alone.

Until a soft voice behind her spoke.

“You alright?”

She turned. Sashwat. Arush’s cousin, new to the school from Mumbai. Kind eyes. Easy presence.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically.

“You don’t look it.”

She offered a small shrug. “The past is heavier in this hallway.”

“Well,” he said with a faint smile, “maybe it’s time you let someone help you carry it.”

She blinked, surprised. He winked and walked away.

Flashback — Two Years Ago

Her 15th birthday. Lights, music, frosting on her hands. The perfect moment.

Then—

Ananya, barefoot, giggling, spinning down the spiral staircase.

“Slow down!” Shweta had shouted.

She’d turned to grab the cake knife when—

A scream.

A crash.

Silence. Panic. Blood.

Siddharth yelling over it all:

“She needed you! She reached out—and you chose your stupid cake!”

Shweta remembered the blur of paramedics, crying neighbors, and Siddharth’s eyes burning through her.

The rest was a blackout.

Her memory ended there.

Back to Present

Shweta stepped into Class XII-B. And of course—he was there.

Siddharth sat two rows behind her.

She could feel his gaze like a blade between her shoulders. But she didn’t turn. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She slid into her window seat. Rolled her shoulders back.

The teacher entered. Roll call began.

“Siddharth Verma?”

“Present.”

His voice was deeper now, but still held that jagged edge.

The class shifted at the sound of his name. Whispers. Curiosity. But only a handful knew the truth—or thought they did.

Her hands curled into fists under the desk.

She wouldn’t fall apart.

Not again.

Later – Cafeteria

Shweta sat beside Sahil, half-heartedly tearing apart her sandwich.

“He hasn’t changed,” she muttered.

“He has,” Sahil said, watching Siddharth from a distance. “He’s just… worse now.”

“And Mohini?”

“Still poisoning minds, one whisper at a time.”

Shweta snorted. “Let her.”

Just then, a tray dropped onto the table beside her. Arush.

“Mind if I join?” he asked, already sitting.

“Go ahead,” she said, a little too fast.

“Cafeteria’s too loud for introverts like us,” he smiled.

“Oh? We’re introverts now?”

He grinned. “You, definitely. Me—only when I’m trying to impress mysterious window-seat girls.”

Shweta blinked, caught off-guard. Then laughed.

Her first real laugh in days.

Across the cafeteria, Siddharth watched. His eyes locked on her smile. On Arush.

And beneath the table, his hand curled into a tight fist.

To be continued...

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***