Chapter 6 – Silent Pain
Months passed after that day. Noverin and Veyra hadn't communicated at all. Nov hadn't thought about Veyra; life continued in its usual rhythm. That was until a terrible illness struck her during a holiday trip.
When she returned home, she isolated herself in her room, under quarantine. Pain was constant; her body and spirit were exhausted. Her mother had returned from abroad, and her brother was waiting at the door. Nov didn't want anyone entering. She needed to face the pain alone. She didn't speak to anyone; silently, she screamed within, yet never lost control.
In the middle of the night, a notification appeared on her phone. Months had passed—she hadn't expected a message. It was from Veyra. Nov was shocked and unprepared. Veyra had requested the photos from the shoot. Nov replied that she would send them when she had time. Yet, Veyra tried to keep the conversation going.
Nov was extremely vulnerable at that moment. At any other time, she would never have paid attention to these messages. But now, with the shadow of death and relentless pain hanging over her, Veyra's words—playful, witty, and lively—caught her attention. For the first time in weeks, the constant agony seemed to fade.
The Veyra she knew from that day of the shoot had changed. Beyond her usual playful charm, she opened up deeper topics, shared thoughts, and sometimes sent messages that were thoughtful, sometimes funny, always engaging. Nov didn't mention her condition; she simply followed Veyra's lead. Their game had evolved—not mere attention, but now a battle of minds, a silent war of ideas and thoughts.
After a while, Nov's pain surged again, and she ended the conversation. Yet, a faint smile lingered on her face. Even amidst suffering, there was a moment of light, a trace of relief. Veyra's messages—provocative, playful, thought-provoking—had, for a brief moment, made Nov forget the illness she was trapped in.
Weeks passed. After that day, they didn't speak again. Nov recovered physically, but the experience had left deep marks. The illness had changed her—panic attacks, withdrawal, isolation. The Nov who once moved through crowds with ease now felt discomfort even in public spaces. Something of her strength had been taken, and she knew it. She had built walls around herself, fully isolated, guarding the remnants of her control and independence.