Amara's POV:
The campus felt almost too bright after a week indoors. I'd missed the chatter of the courtyard, though walking it alone without Jia was oddly hollow. My bag was heavier than it should be with the first day's handouts. I just wanted to get home.
"Ama."The voice stopped me cold.
Julian stepped from behind the staircase column. His eyes carried that restless anger I knew too well."We need to talk."
I tightened my grip on the bag strap. "Julian, I have nothing to talk about. Please move."
"You always think you can walk away," he said, voice low and sharp.
I turned, meaning to head for the gate. The sound cracked the air before I even registered the movement.
Slap.
White light flashed across my vision. My knees buckled and the ground met me hard, gravel biting my palms.
"Don't ignore me," he hissed.
Before I could gather myself, his hand clamped around the back of my neck and hauled me upward. My shoulder scraped against the rough wall; pain bloomed across my arm. He wasn't just holding—he was squeezing, the pressure tightening as he forced me to stand.
Air caught in my throat. My pulse hammered against his grip."Julian—stop," I gasped, words shredded.
The sting of the slap and the press of his fingers blurred into a single ache. Panic sharpened my focus: the path behind him, the small gap to his left.
I twisted, shoving my elbow back with every ounce of strength. He grunted, grip slipping just enough for me to wrench free. I staggered two steps, then ran—didn't look back, only heard his voice fade into the hum of campus traffic.
By the time I reached home, my face burned and my neck throbbed in angry pulses. I pulled my scarf higher, hoping the marks weren't as visible as they felt.
Mom opened the door and froze, eyes dropping to the red scrape along my arm."Ama—what happened?"
"Nothing, I just slipped on the pavement," I said too quickly, brushing past.
"It's fine," I lied, forcing a small smile. "Just rushing. I'll be okay."
Their disbelief hung heavy in the hallway, but they let me retreat to my room.Behind the locked door, I pressed a cool cloth to my cheek, the memory of the slap echoing like a cruel aftershock.Thank God! Jia is not here by the time she returns, I need to be prepared with a realistic excuse for these bruises, or it will be more than easy for her to find the person behind this. I took a shower, tied a scarf around my neck, and put a little foundation to hide the finger marks of the slap.
At dinner time, it was quiet, and to my surprise, Jia didn't notice or maybe didn't let me know that she noticed; anyway, it was good for me because I couldn't answer.
(The house hummed with an awkward hush, the kind that makes every clink of a spoon sound too loud.)
"GO, go, Ama, and don't look back, Mom will come back soon," Mom was saying while her one hand on my head and another..... on her bleeding stomach wound.(Her words came out as if through a fog; the scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang in the air made my stomach twist.)I don't know where Dad was, but she kept telling me to leave and not to look back while running. "No, Mom, where would I go? Please come with me, please," I was asking, but I was just a 10 or maybe 9-year-old little kid.(My voice was small against the roaring in my ears; the memory felt like it belonged to someone else.)"GO to Jia, your best friend, and don't report this to the police, ok?" she said while pushing me forward to leave. I started running, but then heard someone stabbing her while she was still screaming, "Run, don't look back, run".
(That scream is a sound I still flinch at—sharp and raw, it carved itself into the night.)
"Mom," I screamed as loud as I could, but nothing was the same. I was on my bed and that was .... a nightmare. All I can see now is Jia's concerned face looking at me."Again that nightmare," she asked while handing me the glass of water. I took the glass and simply nodded. "Just wait for a few days, and we will go to college together," she said, and there I am with my biggest saviour. I just don't know what my life would have been without her."No, Jia, that's fine, it's just I wasn't expecting and ... I will be fine, trust me," I replied to give her the assurance that she surely didn't get. But still respected the choice I made as always.To change the topic a little bit, I started talking about Adrian because of my encounter with Julian, I completely forgot about it.
(Jia's presence was an anchor; her steady voice pulled me back from the edge of that memory even as it trembled under my ribs.)
"By the way, when I went to your HOD to talk about your internship, I met someone really eager to see you in the college, guess who?" I asked while rummaging through something in my bag. "Don't brag about it. Who wants to see me so eagerly there? Let me guess, Adrian?" Jia said while being so disinterested. "Look, that means fire is from both sides," I said in a teasing voice while handing a paper to her. "What is that?" she asked while taking it. "I don't know, maybe a love letter," I said, but was trying hard to take a peek at what it was about. "Shut up, you," Jia said while hitting me with a pillow. She didn't open it but instead put it inside her bag and went ot sleep again. So did I.
(We fell asleep on opposite sides of the same room, the paper shoved into a bag like a secret waiting for daylight.)
The next day, I was getting ready for college, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, because I was, but I had to face it; nobody's coming to save me, I have to do it for myself.
(I buttoned my shirt a little tighter, practiced a small brave smile in the mirror, and told myself the lie that the outside world wasn't carrying yesterday's shadow.)
I left for college, and this day went well. We were given a group project for the upcoming sponsoring company, and the event was the day after tomorrow, so I'd better prepare it without any excuse. Two days passed, and today is the day I will be presenting our project to the sponsoring company, for which I am excited as well as nervous. I reached college, and all of the group members started to prepare their parts. Some were for hosting, some were project showcases. Lily and I are for the PPT presentation. Soon, we gathered in the hall where the meeting would be held, and the company was.... 'S & R Law firm', that means Mr. Mickelson will come. Because of what Jia said to me earlier, I got even more nervous, not ready to face him. The hosts took their places, and here he comes, confident as always, looking more than just handsome. My eyes were just staring at him that I almost stumbled when his gaze met mine. I instantly looked away. Then it was my turn to present the PPT, which I don't want to do now, but I had to. So I went upstage and started explaining each slide with a little nervousness, and again met his eyes, his eyes sent me a soothing feeling that if saying 'don't be nervous', and there I go, completely convinced and delivered the whole PPT. After this, the project discussion was completed, and we left. It was time to leave, so I packed my bag and started walking towards the entrance gate. I stopped in my tracks when I saw him standing in the parking lot leaning on his car, and definitely waiting for someone. I wanted to rush, but "Miss Amara," he called me. "Hello, Mr. Mickelson," I greeted him awkwardly. But he doesn't seem to mind it, but instead praised me for my presentation and the project work, saying he really loved the project idea. Those words were not just appreciation but something else that Jia was indicating, maybe. Coming back to the present, I noticed him looking at me with concern. "What happened?" I asked, not being clear about his expression. "Did you get hurt?" he asked with a serious tone, and that's why he's asking, because he noticed the marks on my neck and hands. "Ahh, it's nothing, I just slipped while walking the stairs, just that," I said with a full confident tone, but he wasn't convinced at all. "Stairs have fingers?" he asked again with a serious tone and this time I didn't have any answer.
(His question landed like a quiet probe—he wasn't accusing, only searching. The sudden exposure of my bruise made my chest tighten; I tucked my scarf a little closer, the fabric tangling around the healing soreness.)
"Ok, if you don't want to, then I won't force you, but just for your knowledge, if you want to then I am always here to listen," he said while getting back to his car, and soon he left.
I felt a little bad about the expression he had when saying those words; he was somehow concerned, and I just dodged his question miserably, making him feel unwanted.