AVAISHA

Will it make a difference if my foot slips?

The thought crossed my mind as the cold breeze brushed against my face, sending a shiver down my spine. Instead of fear, a strange calm settled within me, soft, almost welcoming.

The city stretched endlessly below. Streetlights glowed like scattered stars, headlights slicing through the darkness as vehicles moved without pause. My eyes drifted downward. Thirty-seven floors.

I had expected terror.

What I felt instead was relief.

It wasn’t frightening, at least, not more frightening than everything I had already endured.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

Beside me, my phone played Maula Mere Maula, the melody wrapping around the silence like a memory I couldn’t escape. I moved my left foot forward.

“Avaisha”

The name cut through the night.

Goosebumps rose along my arms and neck, unsure whether it was the cold wind slipping past me or the familiarity of a voice I hadn’t heard in years.

I turned around.

My vision blurred, tears gathering before they could fall. I blinked once, and the world sharpened again, revealing the man standing a few steps away.

Maula mere Maula still played in the background.

He had changed. His face was pale, his eyes wide with something close to fear.

“Kshyan?”

My voice broke.