They stood side by side before the teacher's desk. Zyran reached into his bag and handed over a piece of paper.

"Sir, this is my admission form."

Christopher Sir barely glanced at it. "After tuition," he said, waving a dismissive hand.

Zyran gave a slight nod and placed the form on his notebook.

Ayliz, standing just a few feet away, had been watching everything. But now, her gaze dropped—her breath caught.

His passport-size photo.

She stared at it, unable to look away. He looked... cute. Almost unfairly so. And then, just below the picture, her eyes fell upon something that sent a thrill through her veins.

A number.

Zyran's number.

Her heart pounded as she read it silently. 98... 89... She repeated it again. And again. The digits engraved themselves in her mind like a sacred chant.

Tuition ended. The students flooded out, laughter and chatter filling the air.

Ayliz felt like she was walking on clouds. Fate had been too kind to her today.

Just as she stepped outside, Ava and Noor joined her. They slipped on their sandals, still caught up in conversation.

"Zyran looked so handsome today, didn't he?" Noor sighed dreamily.

Ayliz froze.

Something twisted inside her, sharp and unfamiliar. She didn't like hearing his name from someone else's lips. Was this... jealousy?

Ava laughed. "When does he not look handsome? Every girl is crazy about him."

She was joking. But the joke felt like poison to Ayliz.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to ignore the conversation. She walked away, silent.

The moment she reached home, she flung her bag onto the bed and pulled out her phone.

Her fingers trembled as she dialed.

One ring. Then another.

Someone picked up.

"Hello?"

Ayliz's breath hitched.

It wasn't him. It was a woman. His mother, perhaps.

"Hello? Who's this?"

Ayliz panicked and cut the call.

She paced her room, heart hammering against her ribs. Had she dialed the wrong number? Or... was she just losing her mind?

Before she could stop herself, she dialed again.

The phone rang.

And then—

"Hello?"

Her entire world tilted.

It was him.

Zyran.

For the first time, she heard his voice on a call. Deep. Smooth. Real.

She forgot how to breathe.

"Hello?" Zyran repeated, waiting for a response.

But Ayliz had no words. She wasn't sure she had even called to talk. She had just wanted to hear him.

And now that she had—

She hung up.

A breathless laugh escaped her lips. Then another.

She twirled around her room, her white chiffon curtains billowing in the breeze. Her heart soared. She had heard his voice.

Lost in her moment, she didn't notice the glass vase on the table—until it crashed to the floor.

Shattered.

Ayliz froze.

Footsteps.

Her mother appeared at the door, arms crossed, eyes filled with suspicion.

"What is going on, Ayliz?"

Ayliz swallowed, forcing a nervous smile. "Nothing, Mom. I just—uh—got good marks in my test today."

Her mother narrowed her eyes, then sighed. "Be careful next time. You could've hurt yourself."

She turned to the maid. "Clean this up."

Ayliz stood there, her heart still racing, as her mother walked away.

A single thought pulsed through her mind.

Zyran.

Ayliz's entire family was gathered at the dining table for breakfast. She sat in her pristine school uniform, ready for another day at The Sunrise—the most prestigious girls' school in town.

Her brother, Fawad, was also dressed and eating hurriedly, while their father, a dedicated police officer, prepared for duty. He was known for his honesty and discipline, and his presence commanded respect.

Both Ayliz and Fawad feared him—not because he was cruel, but because his word was final in the house. However, he had a soft spot for Ayliz. She was his princess, his favorite. If she wanted something, he made sure she got it. There was no wish of hers that he had ever left unfulfilled.

He couldn't bear to see her upset. If Ayliz refused to eat in anger, he, too, would leave his plate untouched. If she pouted, he would do his best to cheer her up. She was the only one who could soften his otherwise strict demeanor.

That morning, as the usual routine unfolded, he glanced at Ayliz and asked, "How's your studying going?"

Ayliz scooped up a spoonful of cereal and nodded. "Good, Papa."

"Your board exams are this year. Prepare well."

"Yes, Papa."

She hesitated for a moment, then added, "I had a test in tuition yesterday. I topped."

Her father's face lit up with pride. "That's my girl."

Ayliz grinned and reached for her glass of water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fawad stuffing food into his mouth, trying to finish before anyone could ask about his test.

Ayliz smirked. She decided to have a little fun.

"Papa," she said innocently, "Fawad's teacher was talking about his test results today."

Fawad immediately started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

Ayliz suppressed a giggle. She leaned closer and whispered, "Payback for waking me up early."

Fawad shot her a glare before mumbling, "Uh... I got 40 out of 100."

Silence.

Their father put down his spoon, his expression darkening. "Forty?"

Ayliz bit her lip, holding back laughter as Fawad prepared to face the storm.

After breakfast, she packed her school bag, but as she reached for her pen, her mind drifted back.

To tuition.

To the way Zyran had copied her pen taps.

To the way their actions mirrored each other, like a rhythm only they could hear.

Her fingers tightened around the pen.

Was it just coincidence?

Or... did Zyran feel something too?

Her heart whispered the answer she was too afraid to admit.