Upstairs, Rina sat by the window, her thoughts lingering on the sounds of laughter and joy from below. For the first time in what felt like ages, the weight on her chest seemed to lift, if only slightly.
And in his sleep, Anik stirred, as if sensing the warmth of the celebration below—a reminder that even amid sorrow, there could still be moments of light.
The party had ended, and the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the wind outside. The warmth of the celebration lingered in the air, but Luna and Arpan carried a quiet sense of purpose as they loaded plates with food and walked upstairs.
They stopped at the door to Anik and Rina's room, their arms full of dishes. Luna pushed the door open slowly, careful not to disturb the siblings. The room was dim, bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight streaming through the window. The silver light illuminated Anik, who sat by the window with his head resting against the frame. His face was a portrait of despair—his eyes dull, hollow, and lost in the shadows of his thoughts.
Rina lay curled up beside him, her breathing soft and even as she slept.
"Anik," Luna called softly, stepping into the room. "Eat something. I know you're hungry."
Arpan followed, setting the plates down on a small table. "Come on, Anik," he added with a warm smile. "Join us. The dishes are waiting for you."
Anik barely stirred, turning his head slightly to look at them. His gaze was empty, as if he were a million miles away. "Rina," he said quietly, reaching out to shake her gently. "Wake up, little one. Eat something. You'll feel better."
Rina stirred, her sleepy eyes fluttering open. "Brother?" she mumbled, sitting up.
Anik gave her a faint smile, brushing her hair back from her face. "Eat," he said, his voice a whisper. "You need it. I'm not hungry. You all should eat without me."
Arpan crossed his arms, his smile fading into a determined expression. "No way," he said firmly. "We're not starting without you. This isn't just about eating, Anik. It's about being together."
"I told you," Anik said, his voice sharper now. "I'm not hungry. Stop overthinking about me."
Luna set her plate down and knelt beside Anik, her expression soft but resolute. "Anik," she said gently but firmly, "we're not overthinking. We're just… we're worried about you. It's not just about the food—it's about you letting us in. Letting us help."
Anik's jaw tightened. He looked away, his voice cold. "You can't help. No one can. I failed to protect the ones I love. I couldn't save my mother. I couldn't save my loved one. What's the point of sitting together and pretending things are fine?"
Rina, now awake and listening quietly, reached out to take her brother's hand. "Brother, you always took care of me. Now let them take care of us," she said softly.
Luna sat down beside him, her tone unwavering. "Anik, no one is asking you to forget your pain. But shutting us out doesn't make it better. It only makes you more alone. We're not going anywhere, so you might as well let us in."
Arpan, leaning against the wall, chimed in with a grin. "And besides, the food is delicious. Trust me, you don't want to miss out."
Anik sighed, running a hand through his hair. He felt trapped, but not in a way that frustrated him. Instead, he felt surrounded by a warmth he wasn't sure he deserved. The three of them looked at him with such genuine concern that it chipped away at the walls he had built around himself.
"Fine," he muttered at last, standing up. "But just for a little while."
Luna smiled brightly, her victory evident. "That's all we ask," she said, moving to help him to the table.
As they sat down together, the atmosphere shifted. Though quiet at first, the room slowly filled with soft laughter and conversation. Arpan and Luna made jokes to lighten the mood, and even Rina began to smile as she ate.
Anik didn't say much, but he felt a small weight lift from his chest. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't alone in his grief.
As the meal wound down, Anik leaned back, his mind swirling with thoughts. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever—broken and stagnant. Rina needed him to be strong, and there was a part of him that wanted to honor the memories of those he had lost by moving forward.
"I don't know what I'll do next," he thought to himself, glancing at Rina, then at Luna and Arpan. "But maybe… just maybe, I can start here. With them."
The night carried on, and though the scars of the past remained, the warmth of shared moments began to mend them, little by little.
Anik sat on the balcony, the night sky stretching endlessly above him. The stars shimmered like scattered fragments of hope, but for him, they only stirred memories of pain. His grip on Rose's locket tightened as waves of anger and grief coursed through him. The chill of the night air wrapped around him, but he didn't move, consumed by the silent storm within.
The door creaked open softly, pulling him from his thoughts. Luna stepped onto the balcony, her footsteps light but purposeful.
"You're still awake," Anik said flatly, not turning to face her. "Go back to bed and leave me alone."
Luna folded her arms, her tone calm yet firm. "The same goes for you. You're awake too."
Anik finally glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "What do you want with me?" he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.
"Nothing," Luna replied. "I'm just worried about you."
Anik scoffed and turned back to the sky. "You don't need to worry about me."
Luna stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. "You know what? You remind me of Arpan—careless but with a good heart."
Anik didn't respond, his silence a barrier she was determined to break.
Luna leaned against the balcony railing, the moonlight highlighting the sincerity in her eyes. "You think I don't understand what it's like to lose your family. To lose the people you love," she said softly.
Anik's brow furrowed, his grip on the locket loosening. "How do you know about the people I've lost?"
"Rina told me," Luna admitted.
Anik's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't interrupt.
"But I don't understand why you'd assume I wouldn't know that pain," Luna continued. Her voice wavered, the weight of her own memories pressing down on her.
"This isn't my real family, Anik. My real family... they were killed by kidnappers when I was a child."
Anik turned to look at her, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Arpan saved me," Luna said, her voice soft but steady. "His family took me in, gave me a home, and treated me like one of their own. From that day, they became my new family." Her lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. "And just like you loved Rose, I've come to love Arpan. So, believe me when I say, I understand loss."
Anik stared at her, the walls around his heart cracking ever so slightly. "I… I didn't know," he said finally, his voice low.
Luna smiled gently. "I know you didn't. And it's okay. We all carry scars, Anik. But shutting people out doesn't make them fade. It only makes them hurt more."
Anik sighed, his gaze falling to the ground. "I've been so caught up in my own pain that I didn't think about what others might be going through. I'm… I'm sorry for how I've acted. For arguing with you earlier."
Luna's eyes softened. "It's alright. Pain makes us do things we wouldn't normally do. But you don't have to go through it alone. You've got Rina. You've got us. We're here for you, Anik."
Anik looked at her, the weight of her words settling over him like a blanket. For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt a sliver of peace.
"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice carrying genuine gratitude.
Luna nodded, stepping back toward the door. "Come back inside when you're ready. The stars will still be here tomorrow, but you need rest."
Anik watched her leave, the faint sound of the door closing behind her. He leaned back in his chair, his grip on the locket loosening further. For the first time that night, the stars seemed less like fragments of pain and more like a reminder of the connections he still had.
He stood, the night air no longer feeling as heavy, and walked back inside.
Anik stepped back into the room, his footsteps soft against the wooden floor. The faint glow of moonlight seeped through the curtains, illuminating the peaceful faces of Rina, Luna, and Arpan, who were sound asleep. He paused, taking in the scene before him—a stark contrast to the chaos and grief that had filled his life for so long.
He quietly made his way to the mattress Arpan had set out for him. Sitting down, he ran his fingers through his hair, his thoughts racing yet calmer than before. Luna's words echoed in his mind: "You don't have to go through it alone."
For a long time, he had carried the weight of his losses alone, believing it was his burden to bear. But now, seeing these people who had opened their home to him and his sister, he felt the faintest spark of something he hadn't felt in a long time—hope.
Lying down, Anik stared at the ceiling, the faint hum of the night filling the room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to his mother's voice, her teachings about resilience and kindness. He thought of Rose, her laughter, and the light she had brought into his life.
"I couldn't save you," he whispered to himself. "But maybe... I can honor you by moving forward."
The thought didn't erase the pain, but it gave him a sense of purpose. He had Rina to protect, a new family to respect, and perhaps, in time, a new path to carve out.