The illusion of health is a fragile thing. It requires the right lighting, the right dosage of medicine, and a collective agreement to look away from the truth. But eventually, the truth becomes too loud to ignore.
It happened on a Tuesday, during what should have been a celebration. Asha had just received the finalized 3D renders for the Skyline Tower's atrium. She was glowing, her laptop open on the mahogany coffee table, showing Roy and Rohan the way the light would hit the glass at sunset.
"It's perfect," she whispered, her eyes dancing. "It's exactly how I saw it in my head."
She stood up to get a glass of water, her movements light and fluid—until they weren't.
Halfway to the kitchen, Asha's legs simply gave way. It wasn't a trip or a stumble; it was as if the strings holding her upright had been cut. She hit the floor with a dull thud that echoed through the quiet house.
"Asha!" Rohan was there in a heartbeat, his chair skidding across the floor.
He gathered her into his arms, but as he lifted her, a violent fit of coughing seized her. She pressed her hand to her mouth, her small frame shaking with the effort to breathe. When the coughing finally stopped, she pulled her hand away.
There, in the center of her pale palm, was a bright, terrifying smear of crimson.
The silence that followed was absolute. Roy stood frozen by the piano, his face turning a ghostly shade of gray. Rohan felt the blood drain from his own heart. The "Golden Days" had just shattered like a window hit by a stone.
Asha stared at her hand, then at Rohan's face. She saw the lack of surprise in his eyes. She saw the way Roy was looking at her—not with alarm, but with a deep, grieving pity.
"This isn't from the stabbing," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The wound was in my shoulder. Why is there blood in my lungs, Rohan?"
"Asha, let's just get you to the bed," Rohan said, his voice cracking as he tried to maintain the mask. "You're just exhausted. The workload—"
"Don't lie to me!" she shrieked, a sudden burst of energy fueled by pure terror. She pushed against his chest, sliding out of his arms to the floor. "I'm not stupid. I've seen the way you two look at each other. I've seen the 'vitamins' you make me take that have the labels peeled off."
She looked at Roy, her eyes pleading. "Roy, please. Tell me. Why am I really here? Why did a top firm hire a girl who was dying in a hostel? Why is everyone being so kind?"
Roy couldn't do it. He turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he let out a jagged sob.
The silence was broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. Asha turned back to Rohan, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Is it cancer?" she asked, the word landing like a weight in the room. "My mother... she had that cough. At the end."
Rohan closed his eyes. The weight of the secret was crushing him, but the look of betrayal in her eyes was worse. He realized that by trying to protect her, he had stolen her right to her own life.
"Stage four," Rohan rasped, the truth finally escaping. "The doctor told us the night of the attack. They found it in your blood work."
Asha let out a sound—a low, animalistic whimper of pain. She slumped back against the sofa, her hands over her face. "How long?"
"Months," Roy whispered from across the room. "At best."
"And the job? Vanguard?"
Rohan stayed silent, his head bowed.
"You bought it," she said, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "The dream. The office. The blueprints. It was all a gift from the playboy to the dying girl. It wasn't real. None of it was real."
"It was real!" Rohan shouted, grabbing her hands. "Your talent is real, Asha! The buildings are real! I just... I just wanted you to see them before—"
"Before I vanished?" she cut him off, her voice cold and hollow.
She looked around the beautiful room, the jasmine-scented air suddenly feeling like the smell of a funeral home. The "Golden Days" weren't a gift; they were a gilded cage.
"I want to be alone," she said, her voice dead.
"Asha, please—"
"Get out!"
As Rohan and Roy retreated into the hallway, leaving her in the wreckage of her broken future, Rohan realized the most painful truth of all. He had wanted to make her feel like a queen, but in the end, he had made her feel like a ghost before she was even gone.