Aarav sat at his desk late that night, the soft glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. He was rereading the letters from Riya, tracing her handwriting with his eyes.
A sudden ping broke the silence. His phone lit up.
A message from an unknown number:
"Do not meet her tomorrow."
Aarav froze.
"Who…?" he whispered aloud. He reread the message. It wasn't angry, it wasn't demanding—just warning.
He tried calling back. No response.
His heart raced. What danger could there be? Was someone else aware of Riya, someone who could interfere with… them?
He spent hours debating if he should ignore it. But the pull was stronger than fear. He couldn't not go.
The next day, at the bridge, Riya was waiting as usual, unaware of the message. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
"You came," she said softly.
"I… I got a strange message," he confessed, glancing at the notebook in her bag. "It said… not to meet you."
Riya's expression darkened. She sighed. "Time… has ways of warning us. Sometimes… it's not just letters. Sometimes, it's fate itself."
Aarav shivered. "Fate?"
"Yes," she whispered, brushing a hand across his. "It's fragile. One wrong step… and everything we've built could vanish."