The moment Zoya stepped out of Shahnawaz’s room, her feet felt disconnected from the ground. Her hands were trembling, and her dupatta hung disheveled around her neck. She hurriedly fumbled with the buttons of her kurti, the heat of Shahnawaz’s predatory touch still searing her skin. Running through the corridor, she bolted into her room and slid the latch shut.
She looked at herself in the mirror—tears filled her eyes, her lips quivered, and her face bore witness to that terrifying encounter. She collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow as sobs racked her body.







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