3. Reckoning

Kriti's POV:

When I finally reached my office, I parked the car and stepped out. I was walking a bit better now, though the pain still made every step uncomfortable. However, I headed up to my floor and slipped into my seat at my desk.

"You’re so late today," Syra said, raising an eyebrow. She was my colleague and also one of my closest friends at work.

"Traffic," I lied casually, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want to go into the whole morning mess again because it all felt like a nightmare I wanted to forget.

I tried to distract myself by focusing on work, but my mind refused to cooperate. No matter how hard I stared at my screen or clicked my mouse, his face kept flashing in my head.

It felt like I’d lost something in that moment. Maybe my dignity. Maybe control. Maybe just the satisfaction of slapping the hell out of him.

The entire day passed with a heavy cloud of frustration and sadness hanging over me.

Later, when the office hours were finally over, Syra and I walked out together. I asked if she could drop me home since I planned to leave my car at the repair shop. She agreed without hesitation.

But the moment she saw my car, her eyes widened.

"Oh God! Did you have an accident or something?"

I forced a smile. "No… I, uh… crashed it into an iron pillar."

Another lie. But it was better than telling her I got insulted, pushed, and defeated by a stranger in public. I just couldn't admit that , not even to Syra.

"You really need to be more careful," she said with concern. "Next time it could be worse."

I nodded silently, grateful that she didn’t ask any more questions.

After handing over my car at the repair shop, Syra started driving me home.

The silence between us felt heavy.

"Why are you so quiet today?" she finally asked, stealing a glance at me while driving. "You barely said anything at the office either. Is something wrong?"

I knew she’d ask. I’m usually the talkative one, the one who never stops with jokes or random stories. But today, I was hollow inside.

I didn’t know what to say. The truth felt too embarrassing. But a complete lie didn’t feel right either.

So, I settled on something in between.

"Just worrying about how to improve as a journalist," I replied, letting out a tired sigh.

Syra suddenly hit the brakes, bringing the car to a sharp stop.

"What happened?" I asked, confused and slightly startled.

She turned to me with a serious expression, her fingers still resting on the steering wheel.

"I want to tell you something, Kriti. About your work."

I blinked, surprised. I hadn’t expected her to take my words so seriously.

"I know how badly you want to be a successful journalist," she continued, her voice calm but firm. "But if you’re always tensed and frustrated like this, you’ll never be able to reach your full potential. Creativity doesn’t bloom under pressure rather it needs a free mind."

Her words made me pause.

"And one more thing," she added. "You need courage. Real courage. And boldness. Not just in your attitude, but in the kind of news you choose to write."

That caught my attention.

"What do you mean? I am bold. I don’t fear anyone," I said, trying to sound confident.

Syra shook her head slightly.

"That’s not what I meant. I’m not talking about picking a fight or standing your ground in an argument. I mean real, fearless journalism. Going after the stories others ignore. Digging deep, taking risks, uncovering what no one else dares to."

Her words settled into my mind like seeds ready to grow.

"I’m saying that do something different, Kriti. Something bold. Something no one else has done before. That’s what makes a journalist unforgettable."

I sat back, quiet, letting it sink in. Syra had just shifted my entire perspective with a few simple words.

For the first time all day, I felt something spark inside me other than anger or frustration.

She started driving again, and before long, we reached my house. We said goodbye, and she drove off with a smile.

But my thoughts stayed with her. Her words echoed in my head as I walked inside.

'Do something no one’s done before.'

Maybe.... that was exactly what I needed. Not just to be good  but to be great. And maybe... Today didn’t end as badly as I thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abhi's POV:

"This nonsense girl ruined my entire morning," I muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I drove.  "God knows where people like her come from."

"Brother," Aarohi said, her voice calm but disappointed. "You really shouldn’t have spoken to her like that. It was partly your fault too. You crashed into her car and then kept provoking her. You wanted her to lose her temper."

I glanced at her sharply. "I don’t get why you’re defending her. She was completely out of line. Rude, loud, and completely unmannered. Honestly, I’ve never met such an annoying girl in my life."

"Seriously?" Aarohi turned to me, her brows raised. "You pushed her, and she still didn’t complain to the police or slap you across the face. If it were any other girl, you'd probably be sitting in a police station right now."

I let out a heavy sigh, her words hitting a nerve I didn’t want to admit existed. Maybe I had gone too far. The image of her stumbling, clutching her knee in pain, flashed in my mind again.

"She probably picks fights with people on a regular basis," I said sarcastically, trying to brush it off. "Maybe that’s why she didn’t react like a normal person."

Aarohi narrowed her eyes at me. "Wow. You’re so mean, brother. You shouldn’t judge someone like that, especially not a girl who was clearly hurt."

"Can we please change the topic?" I snapped. "Why are we even wasting time talking about her? She’s not worth it."

Aarohi didn’t reply. The car filled with silence, and for a moment, I thought maybe I’d actually offended her.

I glanced at her and softened my tone. "Hey, my little sister... Are you mad at me now? Why so quiet?"

She looked up, blinking slowly. "No, I was just thinking," she said, her voice thoughtful. "That girl...  She looked really familiar to me. I feel like I’ve seen her before. Maybe even met her."

I frowned. “Familiar? Are you sure?”

She nodded. "Yeah. Her face was just very known to me. I can’t figure out from where, though."

Strangely, her words made the girl’s face flash in my own mind. Those sharp eyes, that fiery glare, and underneath it all, something elegant. Unforgettable, really. But familiar? Not to me.

"Maybe she’s famous for getting into street fights," I joked with a laugh. "You probably saw her yelling at someone else."

Aarohi gave me a sharp glare.

"I’m just kidding," I said casually, giving Aarohi a sideways glance. "But seriously, stop thinking about that so-called familiar girl. It’s better to stay away from people like her."

"So..... you hate girls who defend themselves?" Aarohi teased.

"The girl wasn’t defending herself rather she was just plain stubborn, ill-mannered, and dumb," I replied with zero hesitation. "And yes, I absolutely hate that type of girl. Thankfully, my little sister isn’t like her."

I gave her a proud smile. Aarohi had always been the calm, intelligent one. The kind of girl any brother would be proud of. She was respectful, mature, and nothing like that chaos I encountered this morning.

"I agree," Aarohi said with a smirk. "I’m nothing like her. But what if you end up marrying a girl like her?"