Chapter 12: Splinters and Shadows

Ira �" Present Day

The college archives didn’t keep records of who broke down, only who dropped out.

But Kiara Roy’s name appeared once in the university festival pamphlet �" her face captured mid-laugh, holding a sketchpad. Next to her, in the blurry background: Meera, looking down, smiling faintly. And someone else. A boy. Half-cropped from the frame. Tall. Confident posture. Sunglasses.

Ira zoomed in.

It wasn’t Aarav.

She knew Aarav’s posture. His stillness was quiet. Contained.

This one was broad-shouldered. Open-armed. The kind of boy who believes nothing will ever catch up with him.

She flipped the image over. Someone had scribbled in blue pen:

> K + V + M = the chaos squad ☕︎ 🎨 �"�

“V?”

She whispered it to herself like a riddle.

Aarav’s last name: Verma.
His brother?
---

That night, she lay awake with Kiara’s image burned behind her eyelids. Meera had written pages. Kiara had left no trace. No social media. No records after Shimla. It was as if she’d erased herself on purpose.

She reached for Meera’s journal again, flipping back to the pages she once ignored. A sentence stood out now, one that hadn’t registered before:

> “He says he doesn’t remember. But I think he chooses not to.”
---

Aarav �" Then

The hotel in Shimla had creaking floorboards and floral wallpaper �" the kind that peeled at the corners. Everything smelled of wet wood and cold cigarettes.

Kiara had stayed up late that night, sketching by the fire. Meera had gone to bed early. Aarav had wandered the halls, sleepless.

He remembered the flicker of candlelight under the door.
Voices. Low, tense. Familiar.

He stood still. Listening.

> “You promised, Vivaan.”
Kiara’s voice �" angry. Frayed.
“You promised you wouldn’t touch that story again.”

A pause. Then his brother’s voice �" syrupy, low.

> “Stories are meant to be used, Kiara. Especially the dangerous ones.”

A chair scraped.

Then something else. A sound Aarav never forgot:
The soft, muffled sob Kiara tried to hide as she pushed past him in the hallway, eyes wild, holding a camera.

She didn’t speak.
But her look said everything.

> Don’t trust him.
---

Ira �" Present Day

The photo. The journal. The transcript.

Ira’s head was spinning.

She returned to the margin of Aarav’s Session 5 and underlined it again:

> It wasn’t my hand on the camera, but I still hear the shutter click.

What had the camera captured?

Why was Kiara carrying it?

And why did she disappear days after that trip?

She opened her laptop and typed into a blank document:

> What happens when the wrong person tells the truth?
Sometimes, the world doesn’t punish the guilty �" it silences the witness.

---

Aarav �" Now

In the therapy room, Aarav sat still.

Dr. Rehm didn’t speak. He just waited.

Finally, Aarav said:

> “If someone you loved did something unforgivable… but you saw why they did it… does that make you a witness, or a liar?”

Rehm leaned forward, gently.

> “And what did he do, Aarav?”

> Aarav’s lips curved into something between a smile and a tremor.
“That’s the part I’m still trying to remember… or forget.”