Chapter 2: Rewind—A Second Chance

“Please, my dear childhood friend, just help me, na? Just tell a small white lie—tell my parents I went to the library with you.”

Her voice always had that sing-song quality when she wanted something, as if coaxing a last piece of chocolate out of her mother. The words tickled my ear, so familiar I could almost hear the rustle of her school dupatta brushing my sleeve.

The voice in my ear became clearer and clearer.

It was like I was being pulled out of a deep well. The world grew sharper, colours brighter, and suddenly I was fully awake, blinking into the afternoon light.

I jolted awake, raising my head abruptly.

The hard desk pressed against my forehead, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. There were the giggles of classmates, the whirr of the ancient ceiling fan overhead, and Ananya’s impatient face inches from mine, her eyebrows arched in mock annoyance.

The burning agony from the fire faded away instantly.

Instead, there was only a lingering warmth on my skin, and the slightly musty smell of the classroom mixed with the talcum powder that Ananya always wore. My mind reeled, unable to make sense of how I’d gone from flames to this everyday scene.

Seeing the pretty face in front of me, I instinctively took a step back.

Even in those schoolgirl plaits and oversized uniform, Ananya had a brightness about her that always made my heart beat a little faster. For a second, the memory of her rage flashed before my eyes, and my body tensed up, as if expecting another outburst.

Ananya immediately scowled. "Rohan, if you don’t want to help, fine, but do you have to look so scared? I’m not going to bite you."

She crossed her arms, giving me the same look my mother did whenever I left my shoes lying around. A strand of hair slipped from her braid, and she tucked it behind her ear with an impatient flick. There was a time I would have done anything to make her smile, but today I just stared.

I stood there, stunned, finally realising—I had actually been given another chance at life.

The realisation settled over me, heavy and exhilarating. A second chance, like the hero in some masala Bollywood film. Maybe this time, I could rewrite the ending.

Noticing something was off, Ananya grabbed my wrist and shook it hard. "Rohan, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me."

Her touch was warm and familiar, grounding me in the present. Her bangles jingled softly as she shook me, and for a moment, all the bitterness of the years ahead seemed like a bad dream.

Her lips pursed, eyes wide with genuine concern—the sort that can only come from someone who’s seen you through scraped knees and exam panic attacks. The care in her expression made my throat tighten.

But ten years later, she really did set me on fire for Kabir.

The memory lingered, sharp and metallic. Even as her hand squeezed mine, I remembered the coldness in her voice and the unforgiving heat of the flames. I couldn’t help but shiver, wondering if any of it could be changed.