Page 45 of Wasted Grace

Tears rush up my throat so fast I have to bite down on my lip.

“I’m okay,” I croak. “I’m better than okay. I promise.”

He still doesn’t buy it. His frown deepens. “So... somethingdidhappen.”

I exhale like it’s the first full breath I’ve taken in days.

“Yeah,” I say, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. “Something happened.”

Vikram doesn’t speak. He waits. Like he knows I’m winding up for something awful. Or unbelievable. Maybe both.

“I... saw someone.”

I shift forward, elbows on my knees, fingers locked so tight they’re white. “Someone I never thought I’d see again.”

Vikram leans in. “Who?”

I close my eyes for a moment.

“Greesha.”

He blinks and scoffs in disbelief. “I’m sorry... what?”

I nod once, sharp. “She’s alive, Vicky.”

“No, she’s—” he stops, eyes narrowing.“What?”

“She’s alive. I saw her. At the GenVault client meeting. After the pitch. She came in. And I froze. I—fuck, I thought I was hallucinating. But I wasn’t. She’s real. She’s alive.”

Vikram just stares. “That’s not—no.No, Advik. What the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw her,” I insist. “Spoke to her.Touchedher.”

He goes quiet, too quiet.

I force the rest out. “She goes by Aadya now. SaysGreesha Dasis dead. Changed her name. Changed everything.”

Vikram exhales like I just confessed to murder. “That’s... not what normal people do, Viko.”

“She’s not—” I hesitate. Then drop my voice. “She didn’t have a normal life.”

He lifts his brows, challenging me.

“She grew up in an orphanage, Vicky. She never had anyone. No records. No roots. That name meant something to me, not her.”

Silence. His mouth presses into a hard line.

“So she changed it and ghosted you for three years? That’s supposed to be okay?”

“No,” I whisper. “It’s not. But she had her reasons. Igaveher those reasons.”

His voice sharpens. “Reasons that led to you nearly ending your life?”

I flinch. The air thickens around us.

He swears under his breath. “I’m sorry. I just... I know you fucked up with her. She’s probably hurt. But I’m... scared, man. You’re smiling again. You ate my horrible bananaraita. You look like you’re floating. And I’m standing here wondering if this ends with me calling an ambulance again. I’m... scared, Viko.”

“I won’t,” I say quickly. “I’m seeing Dr. Reza twice a week. I’m taking my meds. I swear I’m not going back to that place.”