He stared at her, searching her eyes for a hint of jest. "You can't be serious." She smiled—a riddle he desperately wanted to solve. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not." Before he could challenge her, she turned and stepped onto the train. The doors began to slide shut, slicing the world in two. "Wait!" Aarav stood up, urgency tightening his chest. Meera leaned out through the closing gap. "What?" "How will I know you'll come?" Her smile widened, brilliant and enigmatic. "You'll just have to trust me." The train jerked forward, pulling her away until she was nothing more than a blurred shape fading into the sheets of rain. The platform fell silent, returning to its ordinary, gray self. Aarav sank back onto the bench. His hand went to his phone, and he checked the date. He burned the numbers into his memory. For the first time in years, the future didn't feel like an abstract concept, but a specific destination. Somewhere beyond the rain, a girl named Meera had left him with a promise—and a question that would haunt him for exactly twelve months.