As Kabir walked into the office, Meera’s phone rang. She answered loudly, glaring at the nurse. Aarav kept scrolling, thumb moving rhythmically—digging a grave for his attention span, one pixel at a time. They were all together, yet infinitely far apart. The waiting room was full. But there was no one there. The scent of lavender tried to convince everyone: you are clean, you are safe. But the panic had already found its place. Not in the blood. Not in the scan. In the stories no one wanted to hear. And in the silences no one wanted to enter.