The air was crisp when she stepped out of the terminal—America, vast and unfamiliar, humming with a rhythm she didn't yet understand.
Airplanes roared in the distance, luggage wheels rattled across smooth floors, and hundreds of strangers rushed past, each chasing their own beginning. Among them walked Ishitha, a young woman from India, her heart steady with purpose but her gaze holding a quiet storm.
She had always been a paradox—cold enough to guard her heart, warm enough to never stop caring. Independence was her armor, self-respect her shield. She wasn't one to swoon or dream about fairy-tale crushes; she had outgrown such things long ago. For Ishitha, emotions were meant to be mastered, not surrendered to.
When the cab finally stopped in front of her new apartment, she hesitated before stepping out. The city lights painted the night in shades of gold and silver, and for a moment, she felt both invisible and infinite.
This was it—her new beginning.
A life far from home, from rules, from the familiar voices that had shaped her.
Inside, the watchman greeted her with a polite nod, handing over the keys she had been waiting for.
The metal felt cold in her hand—yet heavy with promise.
She climbed the narrow staircase, each step echoing softly in the stillness. The apartment smelled faintly of new paint and dust. Within minutes, her exhaustion was forgotten as she began arranging her things with methodical precision—pillows fluffed, books aligned, bed made, suitcase tucked neatly away.
Order made her feel safe. Control made her feel like herself.
Only when the silence grew thicker did she realize how far away she truly was. She called her parents, her voice steady even as something tender flickered beneath the surface. After reassuring them she had settled in, she hung up and leaned against the window, watching the city pulse under the moonlight.
Her stomach growled, breaking the spell. A quiet laugh escaped her lips as she ordered takeout—something simple, something new.
She ate alone at the little table by the window, the hum of distant traffic her only company.
Later, lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling, sleep slowly wrapping around her. The white noise of the city blurred into the rhythm of her breath.
But just before her eyes closed, a strange feeling stirred—like the air had shifted, as if the universe had just turned a page she didn't yet know she was part of.
Far away, beyond her walls and her quiet certainty, fate had already started writing the next chapter of her story.
And she had no idea how deeply it was about to change her.