THE FLAT WHERE WE LEFT OUR HEARTS Part One — The Room Across the Hall

THE FLAT WHERE WE LEFT OUR HEARTS Part One — The Room Across the Hall The first thing Aarav noticed about the flat was the silence. Not the peaceful kind. It was the sort of silence that seemed to be waiting for something. He stood outside Apartment 4B with a suitcase in one hand and a cardboard box balanced against his hip. The corridor smelled faintly of rain, old paint, and someone's forgotten dinner. He checked the number again. 4B. He knocked. Nothing. He knocked again. "Coming!" A woman's voice. The door opened. She was wearing an oversized white shirt, black trousers, and a pencil tucked carelessly into her dark hair. She looked at him for two seconds before glancing at the suitcase. "You must be the new tenant." Aarav smiled. "That obvious?" "You have the expression." "What expression?" "The expression of someone who has no idea what he's gotten himself into." She stepped aside. "Come in." Aarav laughed. "I haven't even introduced myself." "I know your name." He stopped. She smiled. "Flat owner told me. Aarav Mehta, twenty-seven, works at the publishing company downstairs, moving into 4C." "You're..." "Maya." "Maya?" "That's all you need for now." She shut the door. Aarav stared at it. Then smiled. "Interesting." The flat owner appeared from the staircase five minutes later. Mrs. D'Souza was sixty-three, sharp-eyed, and carried a ring of keys large enough to unlock a prison. "Mr. Mehta!" "Please, Aarav." "Nobody calls me Mrs. D'Souza either. Yet here we are." She handed him the keys. "Rent on the fifth. No parties after ten. No smoking. No breaking furniture. And absolutely no fighting." Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Why would I fight?" Mrs. D'Souza looked toward Maya's door. "Not you." She walked away. Aarav frowned. "What does that mean?" Mrs. D'Souza stopped. "Nothing." Then she continued downstairs. That evening, Aarav met Kabir. Kabir was sitting on the staircase, playing with a lighter. "You live here?" "Unfortunately." Kabir grinned. "Then we're neighbors." "4A?" "Yes." "How long?" "Three years." Kabir closed the lighter. "Long enough to know when someone is going to become important." Aarav laughed. "That's dramatic." Kabir looked at Maya's closed door. "You'll see." Over the next week, Aarav learned that the building had four flats on every floor but only three occupied apartments. 4A belonged to Kabir. 4B belonged to Maya. 4C belonged to him. 4D was empty. The arrangement should have been ordinary. It wasn't. Maya appeared every morning at exactly eight. She drank coffee without sugar. She hated small talk. She read novels while walking. And she never answered questions about her past. Aarav became fascinated with her. Not because she was beautiful, although she was. Not because she was mysterious, although she was. It was because sometimes, when she thought nobody was looking, she smiled at absolutely nothing. And those were the moments he wanted to understand. One rainy evening, Aarav found her sitting on the staircase. She was crying. He almost walked past. Then stopped. "Maya?" She wiped her face. "I'm fine." "You're crying." "I know." "Then you're not fine." She looked at him. For once, she didn't have a clever answer. "I got a letter." "Bad news?" She nodded. "From someone you love?" Maya looked away. "Someone I loved." Aarav sat beside her. "There's a difference?" "Sometimes." The rain struck the windows. Maya whispered, "Love doesn't always end when people leave." Aarav looked at her. "Then what ends?" She smiled sadly. "Hope." Neither spoke for several minutes. That night changed something between them. They began spending time together. Coffee. Late-night conversations. Shared umbrellas. Arguments over books. Small jokes. Long silences. And eventually, one evening, Maya fell asleep on Aarav's shoulder while they watched an old movie. He didn't move for almost two hours. When she woke, she whispered, "Why didn't you wake me?" "You looked happy." "I was." "Then I did the right thing." She smiled. "You're dangerous, Aarav." "Why?" "Because you're making me forget things." "What things?" "Things I'm supposed to remember." Before he could ask more, someone knocked. Kabir. He stood in the doorway. His expression changed when he saw Maya leaning against Aarav. "Can I talk to you?" Maya immediately stood. "Of course." She followed Kabir into the corridor. Aarav watched them. For the first time, something unpleasant stirred inside him. Jealousy. He hated it. The next morning, Kabir approached him. "Stay away from her." Aarav stared at him. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." "Why?" Kabir hesitated. "Because you don't know her." "Neither do you?" "I know enough." "Then tell me." Kabir's face hardened. "I can't." "Can't or won't?" Kabir walked away. That afternoon, Aarav saw Maya leaving the building with a small suitcase. "Where are you going?" She looked startled. "Home." "You live here." "Not the kind of home you mean." She tried to leave. Aarav caught the suitcase. "Maya." She looked at him. "Please." Something in her eyes made him let go. She walked away. Three days passed. She didn't return. On the fourth evening, Aarav found an envelope beneath his door. His name was written on it. Inside was a photograph. Maya. Kabir. And another woman. A woman Aarav had never seen. On the back, four words were written: Ask her about the accident. Aarav's hands went cold. That night Maya returned. He was waiting. She stopped when she saw the photograph. "Who is she?" Maya's face went white. "Where did you get that?" "Who is she?" Maya closed the door. Her voice trembled. "Her name was Anika." "Was?" "She's dead." Silence. Aarav looked at the photograph again. "How?" Maya sat down. "Car accident." "And you were there?" Maya looked at him. "Yes." "Kabir?" "Yes." "What happened?" She closed her eyes. "I was driving." Aarav felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath him. "You killed her?" Maya's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know." "What does that mean?" "I don't remember." The door opened. Kabir stood outside. "You weren't supposed to tell him." Aarav turned. "Tell me everything." Kabir looked at Maya. Then at Aarav. "Not tonight." "Tonight." Kabir's jaw tightened. "The accident wasn't an accident." Maya whispered, "Kabir..." He continued. "Someone tampered with the car." Aarav stared at them. "Who?" Kabir said nothing. Maya began crying. And from downstairs came the sound of Mrs. D'Souza shouting: "Nobody leaves this building!" Everyone froze. She appeared on the staircase. In her hand was an old newspaper. She looked at Maya. Then Kabir. Then Aarav. And finally said: "Because the person who caused that accident is still living in this building." The lights went out. A scream echoed through the darkness. When the emergency lights came on, Kabir was lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. And Maya was gone.