The bext day at the office when she sat on her seat she see a star shape pendant on the her table .
she knew who gave this.
The star-shaped pendant rested lightly on Andaleeb Shah's collarbone, glowing faintly—so faintly that only someone truly watching her would notice. But she noticed it. Not just the light, but the weight of it. The way it seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat, as though it understood emotions in a language more ancient than words.
She stood in front of the mirror, one hand gently grazing the pendant. Her reflection stared back at her—eyes hazel and wide, hair cascading in soft, tangled waves. But tonight, the reflection didn't look entirely like her.
It looked like a girl trying to be human. Trying to be something she was never allowed to be.
Or maybe… a glitch.
The door creaked open behind her, and Eman leaned against the frame, a teasing grin already on her lips.
"Wearing his pendant, huh?" she said, arms crossed as she cocked her head.
Andaleeb blinked and quickly dropped her hand. "It's just a necklace."
Eman chuckled and sauntered in. "Mhm. And I'm just a barista who bakes alien-proof brownies."
"It doesn't mean anything," Andaleeb insisted, though the blush rising to her cheeks betrayed her.
"Oh no, it absolutely does." Eman smirked. "It means he's basically proposing 'don't leave me' without saying 'I love you.' Classic earthboy move."
Andaleeb looked back at the mirror. "He didn't say anything like that."
"He doesn't have to," Eman said gently, stepping behind her. "The look in his eyes says enough."
---
Khan Global – Watching Chaos
At work, Zayan Khan was failing miserably at pretending to focus.
His laptop screen glared white at him, untouched for the past half hour. The spreadsheet meant to track quarterly projections was ignored in favor of glancing—again—toward the intern desk.
She was tapping away on her keyboard, lips pressed tight as she argued with Aryan about coffee preferences like it was a matter of national importance. Her hair bounced with every movement. Her eyes sparkled when she made a point. Her laughter cracked across the glass walls like a thunderclap in a cathedral.
She was chaos.
But a kind he didn't want to fix.
He stood up, walked over to her desk, and dropped a thin file.
"Need this signed," he said coolly.
Andaleeb arched a brow, inspecting the document. "It's blank."
He shrugged. "Still need it signed."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're weird today."
He leaned a hand on the edge of her desk, gaze not leaving hers. "What scares you the most, Andaleeb?"
She stilled.
For the briefest second, her expression cracked. The playful mask fell, and something raw flickered in her eyes.
Then she forced a laugh. "Expired cupcakes. You ever smelled one?"
His tone didn't change. "And when you're not joking?"
She stood slowly, her voice quiet. "When people see the real me."
He didn't press further. But the silence that followed was loud.
---
The Glitch Returns
It happened during lunch break.
Andaleeb walked past the break room with Aryan, still giggling over his theory that ketchup counted as a smoothie because it was made from blended fruit.
Then—sparks.
The microwave sputtered. The lights above flickered once, twice. And then the machine exploded with a loud pop.
Screams.
A chair toppled. Someone yelled about filing a safety report. In the chaos, Andaleeb stood frozen, her hands clenched tight. Her fingers tingled.
She hadn't meant to react. But her fear always betrayed her.
Aryan, shaking off the shock, muttered, "That girl is literally a walking fuse."
Zayan stood in the doorway, watching her carefully. He saw the way her shoulders stiffened. How she didn't make eye contact.
Something wasn't right.
And it had never been.
---
Meeting with Warnings
By afternoon, Haroon entered Zayan's office under the pretense of a financial update. The blinds were half-closed, and the city behind them buzzed with meaningless urgency.
Once the assistant had stepped out, Haroon closed the door gently and turned.
"There are people," he said quietly, "who don't like… anomalies."
Zayan didn't move. "Is this your way of asking me if I'm one?"
Haroon shook his head. "Not you. But you know who I mean."
Zayan folded his arms. "Define anomaly."
Haroon walked closer, his expression unusually serious. "People who don't fit into boxes. Who glitch through elevators. Who glow when afraid. Who don't belong, and yet… matter."
Zayan's jaw tightened. "What would you do if someone you cared about turned out to be one?"
Haroon didn't blink. "I'd protect her. Even if it meant risking everything."
There was a pause.
Zayan looked out the window, his voice quieter. "If she's an anomaly… then I guess I'm the glitch that loves her."
Haroon smiled, but there was sadness in it. "Then you'd better keep her safe. Because someone else is watching."
---
Aleena Hashmi – The Game Begins
Across the city, in a sleek glass office high above the traffic and ambition, Aleena Hashmi sat in her ergonomic chair with a cup of green tea.
She had been watching.
And recording.
The private elevator footage played again on her sleek monitor—Zayan had walked in, pressed no buttons, then waited… for her.
Andaleeb.
The intern.
"She's not just an employee to him," Aleena said aloud, tapping her nails against the cup. "But what is she?"
She picked up her phone.
"I need a background check," she said coldly. "And surveillance. On Andaleeb Shah. Discreet."
Click.
---
The Car Ride Home
That evening, Zayan offered to drive Andaleeb home. No arguments, no jokes. Just a quiet nod as she got into the passenger seat.
The city passed by in streaks of light and shadow. Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Zayan said, without looking at her, "If you ever want to tell me something—anything—I'll listen. Even if it's insane."
Her fingers gripped the pendant.
Silence again. Then, barely above a whisper: "I'm not brave like you think."
He pulled up outside her building, parked the car.
Without a word, he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than they should have.
"You're braver than anyone I know," he said.
She opened the door and stepped out without replying.
But her heart… wasn't quiet.
---
Late Night – The Satellite Warning
The lights in her room were off. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the pendant pulsing softly against her skin like it was part of her now.
She got up and walked to the mirror.
For a moment—just a second—her reflection shimmered.
Her eyes glowed faintly.
And behind her, floating like a whisper through time, the alien satellite blinked into view in the glass.
A soft mechanical voice filtered into the room, clear and emotionless:
> "Emotional connection exceeding 70%. Warning: Protocol breach imminent."
Andaleeb stared at it.
She didn't panic.
She didn't run.
She pressed her fingers to the glass.
Her voice broke as she whispered, "Too late."
---
End of Chapter 21