CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

POV: Arnav

I tried calling her but she wouldn’t pick up her phone. She was angry and I’d first have to apologize for my earlier behavior, I was fine with that.

I reached our home and I knocked at the door. I kept knocking, but she didn’t answer. When I let myself in, she wasn’t there. My chest got tight as I looked around the empty house. Whenever she had to go somewhere she’d always tell me. Maybe she had gone to buy more craft supplies.

The first thing I saw, laying on the coffee table, was a black diary. The one in which Kriti writes now is purple, where did this black one come from and why was it here? There was a paper under the paper weight, kept on that black thing. I sat on the sofa and tried calling her again, but she wasn’t answering. The sinking feeling inside began to grow. Panic. This was what panic felt like. I hated it.

I took a look at the paper.

 ‘Arn