The hospital lobby shimmered beneath the filtered sunlight cascading through the glass ceiling. A hum of activity buzzed all around—gurneys wheeled past, the steady tap of heels, murmurs of clipped conversations. Inaaya stood near the nurses' station, reviewing patient charts with a steadier hand than she used to have. There was something reassuring in the routine now, a rhythm she was learning to trust. Her scrubs were a little less crisp, her bun looser, but the resolve in her eyes had quietly grown roots.
The elevator doors slid open behind her with a soft ding. She didn't look up—until the air shifted.
It always did before a storm.
There was no announcement, no ceremonial welcome. Just the sharp click of stilettos and a figure wrapped in elegance that somehow managed to command attention without demanding it.
"Aleena," someone whispered. And then a cascade of murmurs followed like a rising tide.
Inaaya turned slowly, her clipboard frozen in her hands.
Aleena Mirza stood there, composed in an ivory blazer over deep navy trousers, her badge clipped neatly to her chest. Her long black hair fell in a wave over her shoulder, her skin radiant, her eyes impossibly alert. Confidence rolled off her like perfume.
"I heard she cut her UK observership short," a nurse whispered behind Inaaya, "came back early for some... family reason?"
Aleena approached with a soft smile, the kind laced with something polished and cold. She looked straight at Inaaya. "You're still here."
Inaaya tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "So are you."
"Surprised?" Aleena asked, taking a step closer. The heels gave her the same height as Inaaya, but somehow she still managed to feel taller.
"Just not expecting you until next week."
"Oh, well. Priorities shifted." Her eyes skimmed over Inaaya's badge. "Dr. Inaaya Rathore. You kept the surname."
Inaaya inhaled slowly. "It's mine to keep."
There was a flicker in Aleena's gaze. Something unreadable, like she'd noticed a smudge on glass she'd cleaned a hundred times. Then, smoothly, she pivoted, addressing the surrounding interns with a gracious nod.
"You'll all be seeing more of me soon. I'll be working with Dr. Kaushik's team temporarily. Can't wait to catch up on everything I've missed." Her eyes returned to Inaaya. "Everything."
Before Inaaya could reply, Aleena was already striding away, her presence lingering like cologne in the air—pleasant, expensive, and faintly suffocating.
⸻
An hour later, Inaaya sat in the doctors' lounge, stirring a now-cold coffee, unable to shake the subtle static that Aleena's return had created.
Why now? Why early?
She had heard rumors about Aleena being deeply involved with the board before Saif Mirza's death—but they were always whispers, never something anyone would voice directly. Aaryan hadn't mentioned her once lately. And Aryav—his name echoed faintly in her mind.
His reaction was what unsettled her the most. The moment he'd seen Aleena in the hallway, something in his face had shuttered. It wasn't shock. It wasn't anger. It was more like grief—immediate and intimate.
He hadn't even spoken to Aleena. Just nodded stiffly and turned away. And when Inaaya caught his eye from across the corridor, his smile was hollow. A façade that trembled.
There was something there.
⸻
Later, on her way to the next patient review, Inaaya found Aleena by the central stairwell, laughing with Dr. Kaushik over something inaudible.
Kaushik's gaze slid to Inaaya, then back to Aleena. "Didn't realize you two had finally met again."
Aleena turned, her expression composed. "We did. I must say, marriage has given Inaaya quite the glow. Or maybe it's just hospital lighting."
Kaushik chuckled, his voice loud and deliberate. "Rathore must be doing something right."
Inaaya smiled politely. "Excuse me, I have rounds."
As she turned, Aleena called after her, just loud enough, "We should catch up soon, Inaaya. There's so much history between us. It's a shame to ignore it."
Inaaya didn't reply.
But she felt it—that prickle of unease settling into her spine. A weight that had nothing to do with hospital hours or patient cases. This wasn't just a homecoming. This was a recalibration of power, and Aleena hadn't come back for nostalgia.
She had come back for something else entirely.
And deep inside, Inaaya knew she'd need more than polite smiles to survive it.