wanting to peel back another layer. For the first time all day, he forgot entirely about the missed train. Then, the piercing sound of an announcement echoed through the rafters. Meera’s train had arrived. "Oh," she breathed. A flicker of disappointment mirrored his own. The spell was breaking. Meera stood up, smoothing her *kurti*. "So this is goodbye." Aarav nodded, feeling the sudden weight of the departing time. "I guess." They stood in silence for a beat, the whistle of the train growing shrill. Aarav knew he couldn't let this end without a thread to follow. "Can I get your number?" Meera’s smile softened, turning melancholic. She shook her head. "No." Aarav blinked, stunned. "No?" "No." "Why?" She paused, considering the question with thoughtful eyes. "Because some meetings are special only when they happen unexpectedly." Aarav let out a dry laugh. "That's a terrible reason." "I know," she laughed back. The train hissed, its doors sliding open to swallow the waiting passengers. Meera gripped her notebook, turning toward the platform one last time. She leaned close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Come back here next year." Aarav frowned, bewildered. "What?" "Same date," she insisted. "Same platform. Platform 7."