The clock struck 12:10 AM . Maya sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, staring at her phone. She knew she had only five minutes to make the call. Her hands trembled, the weight of her decision pressing down like a heavy storm.
A year ago, she had lost everything: her job, her friends, her dignity. But worst of all, she had lost her brother, Arjun. The fight that tore them apart still echoed in her mind—words spoken in anger, promises broken, and a door slammed shut forever.
Tonight, her phone buzzed with an unknown number. She hesitated but answered.
“Maya,” a voice whispered.
Her heart stopped. “Arjun?”
“I don’t have much time,” he said. “I needed to hear your voice.”
Her breath hitched. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m… somewhere far,” he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”
Tears streamed down her face. “No, Arjun. I should be the one apologizing. I’ve missed you so much.”
There was a pause, then a faint chuckle. “I missed you too. You’ll be fine, Maya. You’re stronger than you think.”
The clock struck midnight.
“Wait!” she cried. “Arjun, don’t go! Where are you?”
But the line went dead.
The next morning, a package arrived at her door. Inside was a letter, written in Arjun’s handwriting: “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But know that I’ll always be with you, no matter what. Love, Arjun.”
A chill ran down her spine as she glanced at the date on the letter. It was written exactly one year ago—the day he had died in the accident.
Maya clutched the letter to her chest, her tears mixing with a bittersweet smile. Somehow, she knew he had found a way to make peace, even across the boundaries of life and death.
A year ago, she had lost everything: her job, her friends, her dignity. But worst of all, she had lost her brother, Arjun. The fight that tore them apart still echoed in her mind—words spoken in anger, promises broken, and a door slammed shut forever.
Tonight, her phone buzzed with an unknown number. She hesitated but answered.
“Maya,” a voice whispered.
Her heart stopped. “Arjun?”
“I don’t have much time,” he said. “I needed to hear your voice.”
Her breath hitched. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m… somewhere far,” he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”
Tears streamed down her face. “No, Arjun. I should be the one apologizing. I’ve missed you so much.”
There was a pause, then a faint chuckle. “I missed you too. You’ll be fine, Maya. You’re stronger than you think.”
The clock struck midnight.
“Wait!” she cried. “Arjun, don’t go! Where are you?”
But the line went dead.
The next morning, a package arrived at her door. Inside was a letter, written in Arjun’s handwriting: “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But know that I’ll always be with you, no matter what. Love, Arjun.”
A chill ran down her spine as she glanced at the date on the letter. It was written exactly one year ago—the day he had died in the accident.
Maya clutched the letter to her chest, her tears mixing with a bittersweet smile. Somehow, she knew he had found a way to make peace, even across the boundaries of life and death.
nice
