Act 1, Scene 2 — The Lie
"Sir, we did as you said."
Andrew didn't move.
Eyes closed.
Leaning back in his grand, leather chair.
Still.
But something in his stillness looked off—as if calm was only a mask. Guilt played along the sharp lines of his jaw. His lips were pressed tight. The kind of tight that hurts your teeth. He looked like a man caught between two worlds—one he controlled, and one that slipped quietly from his grasp.
"Go back," he said flatly.
The servant bowed, disappearing as if swallowed by the silence.
---
I stirred awake.
The sun was too bright. The clock screamed late in red numbers.
"Oh no... Not again. Shit."
That familiar knot twisted in my stomach—the one made of guilt and frustration and self-loathing. It crept up my spine, thick and heavy.
Why can't I ever be on time? Why can't I just—
But before I could spiral, something flickered. A memory.
A touch.
It wasn't sharp, but soft. A blurred moment from the night before—fingers in my hair? A hand stroking my head while I slept?
No.
I shook my head.
Nonsense.
Was it a dream? A trick of exhaustion?
"I was alone," I whispered to myself, brushing my hair in a daze. "I was dreaming. That's all."
But somewhere in my chest… I knew I wasn't.
I got ready for school like a robot—going through the motions, my mind stuck in reverse. And then, breakfast. I ate quickly, too quickly, not tasting a thing. I wasn't eating. I was just... consuming.
But my eyes—
They kept searching.
Scanning the hall, the stairs, the corridor.
For what?
No.
For whom.
That's when Aamir appeared.
"Madam, do you want something?"
I snapped out of my trance. "No, no, no—thank you."
Embarrassed. Caught. Why was I even looking for him? Why did I care?
I sighed and picked up my bag, the rest of the morning lost in a haze. I didn't even remember how I reached school.
---
"Elisa!" I heard the voice before I saw her. Loud, bright, sunshine-in-human-form. My classmate. My friend. Maybe my only one.
"Hey Sarah! Long time no see. No call, no texts—are you alive or ghosting me?"
I forced a smile. My throat tightened.
"Nothing like that. Just been... busy with work."
The words rolled off my tongue like silk.
A lie.
Effortless. Smooth. And hollow.
But the truth? The truth was far messier. I hadn't messaged because I didn't know what to say. What would I even tell her?
Hey, I live with a stranger now. A man who doesn't speak, but buys me things behind my back.
A man who might've touched my hair while I was sleeping.
No. The lie was easier. Cleaner. Safer.
But as I walked into class, something inside me felt heavier than my bag.
Because sometimes… the smallest lies are the ones that echo the loudest.
---