“Safety doesn’t always feel gentle. Sometimes it feels like silence beside you.”

🎧 Song – “Saibo”

ANAYA’S POV

The taxi disappears in the by-lanes of Bandra East, and I’m left alone with the flickering streetlight

The world feels too vast, suddenly, too loud, too alien.

I clutch the handle of the suitcase with white fingers as the realization of what I’ve done seeps into my bones.

I actually left.

With no backup plan, no safety net, no familiar surroundings waiting to swallow me whole if this goes sideways.

My heart thumps loudly in my ears as I glance down at the address scrawled on my phone.

A cheap women’s hostel. One of the many options I’d researched in the past few weeks, in those long, quiet evenings spent combing the internet for reassurance. I never thought I’d need it, not so soon, but here I am, dragging my suitcase down the uneven road.

A stray dog barks, and I jump so hard that I almost drop my bag.

You are safe, you are safe, I chant, over and over again in my head, willing myself to believe it.

The hostel gates loom ahead, and I feel a surge of relief, but it dies as quickly as it comes.

NO VACANCY, the board on the gate announces in curling, peeling letters.

My heart sinks.

“No,” I murmur into the darkness.

I knock on the gate, my knuckles smarting as they meet the cool metal.

The woman who opens the small grilled window is middle-aged, her face lined with years of worry. “Yes?”

“Ma’am, I called today for a room,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Do you have any vacancies?”

She sighs, the sound heavy with resignation. “Tomorrow.”

My throat tightens. “I have nowhere else to go,” I admit, the words tasting bitter as they leave my lips.

Sympathy flickers in her eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something colder. “Then come back tomorrow, dear.”

The window shuts with a soft click, leaving me stranded on the pavement.

I sink down on my suitcase, my knees pressing into the rough fabric as I stare up at the streetlight flickering overhead. My phone battery glows accusingly in my hand, and I wish, not for the first time, that I hadn’t left home without a charger. A sound like a whimper escapes my lips as tears blur my vision, and I hug my knees to my chest.

Perhaps I should have stayed where I was.

Headlights spill over the road, and I look up, startled, as a black SUV pulls up near the gate. The engine dies with a soft thud, and I blink in surprise as the man in the driver’s seat gets out. He scans the street, his movements careful, efficient, before his gaze falls on me.

Something tightens in my chest at the sight of him.

It’s nearly midnight, and a girl shouldn’t be seen sitting on the road in a place like this, alone.

He walks up to me, unhurried, and I straighten my spine, willing myself to look composed. “Are you okay?” His voice is smooth, calm, but there’s an edge of concern that makes me flinch.

“I-I’m fine,” I lie, scrambling to my feet as he comes closer. “I’m fine.”

I glance down at the suitcase in my hands, then at his face, where a mixture of emotions flicker. He nods at the hostel gates. “This place doesn’t take entries after ten.”

I blink up at him. “You… you know this hotel?”

“I own the building opposite to it,” he replies. There’s a pause, a silence stretching between us, before he adds softly, “Are you alone?”

I bite my lip, my fingers tightening around the handle of the suitcase. “Yes.”

His jaw tightens, and something in his expression darkens. “Where are you staying tonight?”

I hesitate, my heart pounding in my ears. “I-I don’t know yet.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and I curse myself silently. It’s not like I have any other option, but the vulnerability in my voice makes me wish I did.

He studies me for a long moment, calculating, assessing, before he says, almost to himself, “There’s a caretaker couple at my place. You can stay in the guest room tonight.”

I gape at him. “No, no, I can’t trouble you, sir, I really can’t - ”

“This isn’t charity,” he interrupts, his tone firm but gentle. “It’s for your own safety.”

I’m still reeling when he adds, “You’re free to refuse, of course, but I won’t feel right leaving you here.”

ANAYA’S POV

All the warnings in the world scream at me, but I ignore them, looking past him at the empty road. The fear that has been clawing at my throat takes on a different shape, one that isn’t as terrifying as I thought it would be.

“…Okay,” I whisper.

He nods, as if he’d expected me to say that, and picks up my suitcase with ease, setting it in the backseat of his car. I slide in after it, my heart pounding in my ears, and he takes my hand, steering me into the car.

Neither of us speaks for a long time as the car rumbles down the road, the silence stretching out between us. I study him in the darkness, his features lit by the glow of the streetlamps, and something in me relaxes. He’s not lying to me, not about the caretaker couple, not about his intentions. I know that in my bones, and so does he.

“Thank you,” I murmur at last, barely more than a whisper.

He looks at me, surprise flickering across his face before he murmurs, “You’re welcome.”

His eyes are dark, unreadable, but something in them tells me he isn’t as composed as he looks.

You are safe, you are safe, I repeat to myself as the car swerves around a pothole, and for the first time since I left my house, I believe it.

✨ END OF CHAPTER 2

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