PROLOGUE

4 YEARS AGO

"After all, we are nothing more or less than we choose to reveal."

~Sylvia Plath

They say enjoy the beautiful things around you, but I don't think anyone does. At least not until they only have 28 hours and 24 minutes left to live. Because now that I know I am going to die tomorrow, I have finally taken the time to sit around and observe my surroundings that have been my home for the last year.

It's surprising when you finally notice the details of the most bizarre and mundane things ever. Normally I would never willingly stare into nothingness as a cool breeze plays with the fabric of my abaya and my long black veil. It's unlike me. Time is precious and shouldn't be wasted doing things as such.

But today none of it matters. I want to soak in everything this place has to offer.

I joined VAR Academy last year. It's the most prestigious university situated in a small village located in the Himalayas. Students don't just enrol themselves here, the founder families of the university handpick students after several tests.

The tests are not academic, they are more of personality tests, where one is evaluated on the basis of their answers to the questions based on real life incidents. Nobody knows the criteria with which the final list of students is decided. That's not  surprising, considering no one even knows who the founding families are.

Throughout my admissions process the director of the academy kept referring to them as shadows. Apparently their main purpose is to pick the ones with aptitude for unconventional skills and train them to live as shadows. Always found lurking in the dark, seen but never captured.

And in the last year, I lived my life the way I wanted to.

I have wanted to learn cyber skills since the day I learned how to spell it and what it means. My father has always fueled every wish I ever had, without any objections. So when I got selected, both of us did a happy dance together and started counting the days until my first day here.

But yet when I came here, I hated how distant this place was from home.

The home I left behind was hot, humid and warm for almost the entire year, but the place I yearned for, since the day I discovered it, bears a frosty charm. This place experiences sub zero temperatures for a few months every year.

Having lived in Mumbai my whole life, I have very low — almost zero — cold tolerance. But now that I know I am going to die, I want to feel the cold deep in my bones — even though I might get sick because of it— because I will never get to live this again.

So, I close my eyes as the cool breeze of air penetrates my skin and embraces my bones. My teeth clatter, but I still don't budge. I actually want to feel as alive as I can, because tomorrow my life will cease to exist.

Death is inevitable, at least that's what everyone says. But I am 22, too young to die. And it doesn't help that I know exactly how I am going to die, because I planned it myself.

I chose the audience, the place and the time. Hell, I will even have to knowingly walk on my two feet to my death and embrace it like I have been waiting for it eagerly.

The irony isn't lost on me, because as a kid I always thought that I would run away from death and ghost it. I would hide behind my father and he would save me, like he always does.

But the reality is entirely different, because in reality my father will be the one monitoring my death, so that everything goes perfectly.

Tomorrow exactly at 10:00 AM, I will greet my death as I have waited for it forever. The truth is, I did wait for it, but not anymore. I have a reason to keep myself alive now, which I didn't have before.

The reason happens to be 6 '3 feet tall, with a muscular body, straight nose, chiselled jaw, high cheekbones and eyes that look like the dark sky with stars sparkling in it. The man is my knight in shining armour, not that I needed one, but you get what I mean.

I breathe in the fresh, cold air of the campus. This place has been my home for the last 1 year and 2 months to be exact. Out of the three courses that this place provides, I spent a year mastering cyber skills and the remaining two months taking a few covert classes.

The university is often called 'the university of three C's'. It's because of the courses it provides — cyber, combat and covert.

Students come here from all the different parts of the world. VAR is an almost secret academy, and since its establishment, it has managed to keep every piece of information about it hidden. There are only two branches, one in Asia and the other one in Russia. So students from all over the continent travel with the sole purpose of learning from the best and making this small village their home for a year. And tomorrow all of them will be graduating, not me.

I will be dying.

I watch the mist and fog move slowly around me, hugging me and engulfing me in itself, as if bidding me goodbye. I fall back on the bench as I try to calm my overworked brain. The veins in my temples throb because of the sleepless nights I have been having lately.

I am never going to get to come here again, so I have to collect as much of this place as I can.

I continue sitting on the same iron bench, as my body shivers and limbs tremble with cold. The tall buildings surround me as if watching me live my last moments. I look up but nothing meets my eyes other than the white smoke that floats in the air. Fog.

The visibility has reduced to almost zero since the last few days. If I hated it before, then I am finding solace in it today.

The worst part of dying isn't actually dying, it is the fact that I can't even tell him the truth.

He might hate me when he finds out the truth. Maybe he will forgive me if I tell him my reasons, but maybe he won't.

Slowly the light from the sun starts peeking through the thick curtain of fog washing away the darkness. Doors start opening and the sounds of footsteps reach my ears. The whispers and chatters of students fill the air around me and I take a deep breath before the commotion begins.

Everyone walks around the grounds with their friends, talking, gossiping, planning. Some are jogging, exercising. But nobody approaches me.

I am not an outcast, if that's what you are thinking. I chose to remain invisible. The more involved I would have become with the people here, the more I would have risked my secrets coming out. So, I stayed closed to them.

Even though all the people here are exactly the type of people I prefer. They are all loyal, honest, trustworthy by default, which is why they were picked in the first place. But I couldn't risk getting close to them. I made sure to keep my walls up. But like every rule ever made, there is an exception to this one too.

And the said exception is walking towards me with two cups of coffee in his hands.

Avinash Kapoor.

The cold wind blows his hair backward in the most dramatic way. The time starts to stop, my surroundings freeze and his movements are the only thing that matters. He looks like the God of Ice with his nose turned red with cold and the smoke coming out of his mouth as he breathes.

He is just your friend. Nothing else.

I did everything to push him away in the start of our friendship, but the more I pushed him the harder he came back to me.

Our friendship had a very rocky start. I didn't want to get close to people here, because the more people knew about me, the more loose ends I would have had  to tie. But during our first week, I was paired with Avinash for our first assignment.

Avinash was good, but I was better. We would argue when he wouldn't do things the right way, which was my way. And once I lost it and hacked all his devices and accounts just to spite him.

Seeing him freak out because he couldn't talk to his little sister back home, check on his father and stepmother made me feel bad for him.

I enjoyed other people's misery just enough, but that day it was about his family. And for me family always comes first. Loyalty and righteousness are right next to it.

So, I helped him get his accounts and devices back and in return he promised to follow my orders.

That was the start of our friendship.

After our first assignment we started meeting daily to play chess. We were both equally good at it, yet I lost, always. That's when he told me about his father.

He lost his mother at a very young age, which left him and his father behind. Avinash didn't even get the chance to know her or bond with her, considering she was always sick and in hospital, but her loss still hurt.

So when little Avinash started to close himself to the world, his father made a little window to his heart using the chess board. They would play daily, and his father would teach him new tactics every day. That man remarried, so that his son could have a mother. And once Avinash was old enough, his father had another child, a little daughter, Riva.

Avinash plans to take over his father's IT security company.

The company is already at the top, he will just have to prove himself worthy enough to take over. That is what brought him here. He wants to keep his father's legacy alive, so despite his interest in music, he chose this path.

It is one of the things I love the most about him. He chose family. He chose love.

"Coffee for the woman who didn't even smile when she found out that she is the best hacker the academy has produced in the last two decades."

I shake my head.

Since the last day of our training when the director announced me as the best hacker from our class, Avinash has been on cloud nine, unlike me. I won't even get to celebrate the win. Nobody will remember me as the girl who won, but as the girl who died.

But I suck it up. It doesn't matter.

I wrap my fingers around the cup slowly, making sure I don't accidentally touch him as I grab the cup from his hand.

He takes a seat next to me on the far end of the bench, making sure I am comfortable. This is one of the things I love about him, he respects my religious beliefs. It is also the reason why I broke my rule for him.

I slowly lift my veil up, making sure I do not accidentally show my face and bring the cup to my lips. The smell of coffee fills my nostrils before I taste its bitterness at the back of my throat.

"It's bitter." Just how I like it.

He turns his head towards me, our eyes lock. "Sweetness is overrated," he says with a smug smile. A smile that rips my heart into two pieces. He will never direct these smiles at me, not when he finds out the truth.

I look away.

"Yet you add two spoons of sugar in your coffee."

"Well, I am going to get a bitter wife, so to balance out her bitterness I make my drink extra sweet." He raises his cup in the air, and brings it to his mouth and winks in my direction.

He has been dropping hints lately. Earlier none of us voiced our feelings or the attraction we felt, our relationship has been completely platonic. None of us made any advances. But for a few days he has been playing this game with me. I don't want to make a promise I cannot keep, so I keep acting like I don't get it.

Because he might want to marry me now, but what about when he finds out the truth?

What about when he watches me die?

Will he ever forgive me for keeping it from him?

Will he ever give me another chance?

When I feel emotions overpowering me and slowly creeping towards my eyes to seek an outlet, I shake my head and push all the thoughts away.

"Like someone would ever marry you," I mock.

He smirks.

The idiot smirks at my remark.

"Well, since that someone will not date me due to her beliefs, the only option I have is to marry her, Amirah."

My heart leaps in my chest, and my stomach does this weird thing. I have felt a lot of things in my life, but never this.

But I can't give him a false hope. I have already led him enough.

"Like I would ever marry you," I say with a condescending tone.

"And like I would ever marry someone who isn't you."

That shuts me up.

The tears I pushed back earlier, are now pushing harder to come back to the surface. But I can't cry. I do not cry. I am my father's daughter, and he didn't raise a loser.

I can handle this.

"Are your parents coming tomorrow?" I ask hoping to change the topic.

"Yes. My father's been a little unwell lately. I told him he should skip and rest, but he is adamant. So they will be here at 7 tomorrow."

I am happy for him. From what I know, he is really close to his father.

"Mine will be here at 10:00."

"We will meet at 10:00 then."

"Yes, meet me in the park next to the VAR HISTORIC HOME."

"Will be there." He smiles and continues to drink his coffee.

The poor man doesn't even know he just agreed to the first row seat at my death.

We continue to talk for a while before my stomach starts growling. And it's almost time for breakfast, so we both head towards the dining hall.

Happy last breakfast, Amirah Aiza Ahmad.

ʚ☆ɞ

I put my veil on for the one last time and then check my phone for any messages from my father.

There are none. Which means everything is going according to the plan. My death is being perfectly executed.

I check the time. 9:30 AM.

Avinash called me in the morning when his family arrived. He wanted me to come down and meet them, but I made an excuse.

I couldn't do this to him.

In the last year, we have grown to care for each other. He has become the face I search for when I enter the room, the face I turn to when something happens, the face I usually adore as God's best creation when he isn't watching me.

But it's time to let him go. And that thought alone is enough to shake my body to core.

Since this morning I haven't been able to sit still thinking about him.

My limbs have been trembling with fear. Not from the fear of dying, but from the fear of losing him and never getting him back.

He isn't mine, but it's hard to explain it to my heart when all it can think about is him.

He deserves to know the truth about me, about Amirah. He needs to know who Amirah is. My conscience has been shouting at me since our last interaction yesterday. But I can't tell him.

The truth won't just jeopardise my life but also my family's. And that is a mistake I will never make. My family will always be protected, even if that means I have to let go of the only man who I have ever deemed worthy of being my husband one day, with my father's blessings.

Grabbing my phone I walk out of my room. Students pass the corridors with their parents as they show them around. Today is the only day when parents are allowed inside the campus.

My phone pings with a text message.

We are here.

My family has arrived.

I take out my contact list and dial Avinash's number to ensure he is there, or on his way there.

"Triple A!" A high pitched, shrilling voice, that does not belong to him, says.

I frown in confusion. It's a nickname Avinash gave to me when I told him my full name, Amirah Aiza Ahmad. He is the only one who calls me that.

I am about to check if I dialled the correct number, when a very specific distant noise catches my attention. Even among all the scuffling and muffled voices, I can recognise his'.

A child whines as his voice gets more clear, as if walking towards the phone.

A feeling of warmth spreads across my chest. I have heard him talk about his family for as long as I have known him. I once even talked to his little sister. And witnessing this little moment makes me feel things I can't put my finger on.

I am content, but I am also sad.

"Hey, triple A. That was the little phone monster my family harbours. She apparently thinks it's okay to answer a phone as long as it is lying next to you."

"I am not a monster. Mommy tell him," the little girl shrieks.

A soft trembling smile escapes my lips. I can't believe I will put a damper on their happiness, by dying.

"It's okay. I just called to tell my parents are here."

"Great. I will meet you in the park with my family."

No!

I can't have a child witness a death. It will scar her for life.

Think.

"Avinash," I say in a soft voice.

"Triple A."

"You should come alone. Meet my parents and then we can join yours in the dining room."

I close my eyes and cross my fingers.

"That sounds better. Apparently the monster is hungry and has been chewing off our ears for an hour now."

"I am not a monster," she whines.

"Of course you are not, baby. Avi bhayia is joking," a light feminine voice coos, probably to the little girl. She must be his stepmother.

"Yeah, see you down there."

And I cut the phone.

I don't want to witness any more private moments between his family. It feels like I am deceiving him, cheating him. What I witnessed was pure, the complete opposite of what I will be giving him today.

I have kept everything hidden from him, when he was nothing but an open book for me.

The guilt the size of my life lodges in my throat. An invisible hand wraps around my throat, making it harder to breathe.

I close my fluttering eyes as I recall the words my father said before agreeing to send me here.

"The only way I will ever let my daughter close to a place like VAR is if she dies."

My father was set on this decision. And considering he kept his part of the promise by letting me study here, it is time I keep mine.

ʚ☆ɞ

My phone buzzes with the notification of the timer going off. The countdown begins.

10...9....8...

I watch Avinash walking towards me through my peripheral vision. Tears fill the brim of my eyes. "I am sorry," I slowly mutter and close my eyes preparing myself for the sharp effect of my death. "I wish I could tell you the truth."

A bullet pierces my chest, my entire body goes limp with the shooting as the pain slowly spreads from my chest to my arm and engulfs my body like a pandemic, slowly eating away every cell responsible for my existence. I fall to the ground, as my father's screams fill the air and he runs towards me.

I close my eyes for the one last time.

It's over.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A special thanks to Ilma for reading this chapter and helping with Amirah's character.

You are my real life Vanie.

And also to Kree, for reviewing this chapter for me. Your opinion and suggestions mean everything to me.