“Is there somewhere familiar she could have gone? Where’s Grandmother’s house?” Ahaan presses.

  “I don't know of any place she goes except for her workplace. She is a chef at a restaurant. I don't remember the address exactly, though. It must be written somewhere at home. And my grandmother is no more, so she couldn’t possibly go there.”

  "Then we must go to her house first and find the address", Ave suggests.

  "But my mom told me to run. Will it be safe to go back to my house?", I turn to them and ask.

  "But we do not have any other choice.", Ave insists.

  Ahaan remains quiet, immersed in his thoughts. His eyes flicker briefly, but remain fix on Ave’s hands, carefully catching each gesture he makes.

  "Let’s get out of here first. We’ll figure it out on the way. It’s not safe to stay any longer. It must be their closing time. We are lucky none of the classes had an ecology lab today", Ahaan says firmly.

  We rush out of the lab and close the door behind. Ahaan leads the ways, quieting stepping forward, towards the stairs. The library remains open and the familiar quietness still surrounds the area. A quick glance into the hall and a glimpse of old lady’s glasses is visible from outside; she seems to be busy in her work.

  We take the steps down the stairs. As we reach the second floor, footsteps echo in my ears.

  A sudden chill passes down my spine. Now that We’ve been alone for hours, being surrounded by people again feels unnatural, almost wrong. I lower my gaze toward the floor. A few teachers drift down the corridor and join the group gathered three rooms away. They stand there in silence, quietly examining the leavers. Before, passing teachers or students never bothered me. But now… now that I know I am dead to them, it feels different. Strange. As if I want them to look at me. To notice me. To prove that I am still here.

  A warm breath brushes against my neck. I turn to look at Ave. He looks even more stressed than I feel.

  Suddenly, Ahaan’s left-hand slips into mine, and with his right, he takes Ave’s hand. His hands are warm. Steady. Reassuring.

  He must have noticed how frightened we both were.

  Without a word, he gently leads us down the stairs.

  We keep our footsteps light, forcing ourselves to act normal. Step by step, we make our way down to the ground floor.

  "Don't they keep parents' records along with students' records? We can take the info from there.", Ahaan suggests.

  "You two stay here. I will get them." Ahaan proceeds to leave.

  "No, we will go with you.", Ave protests.

  "We can get caught if we all go together.", Ahaan alleges.

  "No, it will a lot faster to find, if we look together", Ave asserts, unwilling to be deserted alone.

  But either way, it didn’t seem wise to send him alone, and we might actually be useful, as Ave suggested.

  After a moment, Ahaan nods slightly, as if agreeing, and motions for us to follow him.

  As we reach the teachers’ record room, I slow down. The label at the door specifies it.

  "Stop, someone is inside.", Ahaan whispers putting his index finger on his lips.

  “I can go,” I tell Ahaan through hand movements. “No one can recognize my presence.”

  "No, it is still..", Ahaan begins but I interrupt him, "Don't worry". And with I pace inside.

  It’s a large hall lined with the teachers’ cabins. The place is quiet except for the occasionally noises coming from the outside. The record room consists of total thirteen rows with three columns.

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  Each row has a small section where all the class students' records were.

  I continue searching until my eyes land on row containing the records for the class of 11. Now that I look at it, it is the eleventh row from the start. I search for my file. There’s nothing under my name. Nothing at all.

  I take the student register, it still shows thirty-two but it lacks my name.

  Then it strikes me. Of course, I was dead in their records, it makes sense. I stay with that thought to ponder over the details. Let’s see my name is nowhere in present records. But I existed some days back so there must be somewhere at least. They just cannot get rid of everything at once I search again, flipping through the files faster this time, but still nothing. Maybe the storeroom, the thought runs on mind as my eyes rest on the door at the farthest end of the room.

  As expected, it is locked. It is a room not accessible to students. But what can I connect with its name, it should keep all the unwanted things.

  I hear a voice coming from the third row, first column.

  My heart stutters. I decide to ask Ahaan for help as he successfully opened a lock once.

  I move quietly toward the door and ease it open.

  Ave and Ahaan are standing there. Their ears are pressed closely against the door.

  I ask Ave to explain to Ahaan about the locked door.

  After a moment, Ahaan turns to Ave. "Ave, can you please guard the door and look for any approaching footsteps.", he murmurs to Ave before we slip inside.

  "Wasn't there someone else in the room? Where are they?", he asks.

  I point towards the third row to show him the exact location.

  "Ok, let's get over with it quickly. If odds are in our favor they might not even hear us here."

  I show him the agreement with a thumbs up.

  He quietly opens the locked door with the pin and we enter the room. It is a dark room, and a foul smell hangs in the air. We close the door quietly behind us.

  As we step inside, we bump into wooden crates stacked near the entrance. Ahaan quickly fumbles for the switch and turns on the light.

  At the entrance, broken chairs and old tables blocked the way. There were too many of them, piled carelessly as if someone had tried to hide the room itself.

  Farther inside, a few rusted toolboxes lay scattered across the floor. Some clothes were tossed nearby.

  In one corner, a heap of school uniforms was lying in a crumpled pile. Too many of them.

  Then I noticed some shelves against the wall.

  It was lined with files. Rows and rows of them.

  "Let's split and search", Ahaan suggests.

  We go through the shelves carefully, brushing dust aside with our palms. One file at a time, because none of the shelves are labeled.

  I drop to my knees and start sorting through the lower stacks. Some twenty or twenty-five files in each pile. Too many. It says, "Teachers' list 2023", "Teachers' list 2024", "Teachers' list 2025" and so on.

  The upper stack contains more records of teachers. Fine dust coats everything, and spider webs lace the corners like abandoned threads.

  After going through four or five such stacks, my fingers pause. I find a set of files with labels, "Deceased students 2029", "Deceased students 2030" and so on.

  I quickly skim through all the labels in a blur. One file catches my eye, "Decreased students 2064".

  I pull that file out. It contains class wise names. I flip the pages to the list of class 11. There are several names, suggested to be of my class but my mind does not preserve any memory of these names. I scan through the pages quickly. Then after only some ten to eleven pages left to end. I see the name, "Ashnah Stawarski".

  "Deceased on 23rd September 2064. Student of “Class of 11”. Sits in the middle of the second row.". It summarizes all of my information. Then at the bottom, "Guardians. Father - Deceased. Mother – Eve Stawarski. Occupation of Father - NA, Occupation of Mother - Chef at the restaurant 'Sweet Piece'. Home address - D41 Street. Work address of Father – NA. Work address of Mother - D34 Street."

  My breath catches. This can’t be real. "Deceased”, but my dad is alive. He is working for the Master research department. It is not true. Mom also said he is out for work. It is not true.

  My heart lurches. I try to call out to Ahaan, to warn him, but the sound seems to not reach his ears. He doesn’t react.

  Or is my voice not coming out at all?

  The thought shatters me.

  I am dead and I cease to exist. I have no father.

  My knees give way, and I collapse onto the floor, crying.

  He takes a few steps forward towards the stoor room door.

  "Ashnah, I think someone is coming inside. We must.” He notices me.

  “What happened", He rushes to me.

  "Are you alright?", He’s on his knees in an instant, gently trying to raise me.

  "It says.." The rest gets stuck in my throat.

  "You found the record? Does it have the address?" His eyes dart from the file to me.

  "It says my dad is dead. That I have no father. How is that possible I have a father.", I start sobbing.

  Ahaan takes the file from my hands and starts reading.

  He carefully studies the material, his grip tight on the hard cover. While reading, he blinks his eyes several times. His eyes flow down to up through the pages. Not the usual up to down. He reads in a strange way, pausing now and then to press his fingers to his forehead, rubbing it like the words are giving him a headache.

  "Are you crying because of your father?" He asks quietly after finishing.

  I can’t answer. The words feel too heavy.

  "Well, we cannot trust this source. This is just part of their routine to write this information as such. Remember your mother said to you that you will meet your father someday. I am sure that day will come. Please have trust in your mother. For now, you got to be strong we have to find your mom. At least we can try to save what is left. your mother can be a key to us. “And I think she might be a disturber herself. We can’t stay. Let’s go.” He pulls me up gently.

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