POV -
It was already past 11 PM. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that only comes deep into the night. Sanvi was still talking to Pranjal through messages, but sleep was slowly pulling her in. She wasn't someone who stayed up late—her body knew when it was time to rest. So, as her eyes grew heavy, she typed one last message.
"I'm going to sleep now."
Pranjal replied almost instantly,
"Okay, go ahead. I'm going to sleep too."
And that was it. Sanvi locked her tablet, placed it beside her pillow, and tucked herself into bed. The glow of her sister Aashvi's phone still lit the other side of the room. As always, she was glued to her screen, most likely watching one of her K-dramas. Sanvi had never cared for those shows—especially because Aashvi could stay up till 3 AM, watching episode after episode without blinking. Sanvi found it strange, but she was used to it by now.
She fell asleep quickly.
But after some time—she didn't know how long—she stirred. A faint pressure in her stomach reminded her she needed to go to the washroom. Still half-asleep, she sat up and reached out instinctively, expecting to feel her sister lying next to her.
But her hand met an empty space.
She frowned, blinking away the haze of sleep.
"Where did she go?" she thought.
"Water? Washroom maybe?"
But something felt… off.
Her gaze fell on Aashvi's phone—resting right there on the bed.
Screen still on.
And Instagram was open.
Sanvi's eyebrows pulled together.
"Netflix toh nahi…?" she whispered to herself.
"Strange."
The screen hadn't timed out. The app hadn't closed. It was as if Aashvi had left it open in a hurry. A flicker of curiosity rose in Sanvi's chest. She shouldn't… but the opportunity was just there.
She picked it up, almost nervously.
The moment her eyes landed on the chat list—her heart skipped a beat.
At the very top… Pranjal.
Sanvi froze.
A strange chill spread through her body. Her fingers hovered over the screen, eyes fixed on the name that had no business being there.
"Why is Pranjal's name… on Aashvi's phone?"
"Why is he at the top of her chat list?"
Her mind raced.
Aashvi never mentioned talking to him. In fact, she used to say he was "too dull," "too reserved." Sanvi had never seen them speak more than a few words.
But now… this?
Heart thudding, she tapped on the chat. It opened. And what she saw next… shook her.
Sanvi's throat tightened.
"She lied to me."
"He lied to me."
"They're hiding something…"
Pranjal's Message:
"Damn, Aashvi... you have no idea what you do to me."
"Right now, I'm burning for you—every inch of me restless, craving you in ways words can barely contain."
"Do you know what I imagine? You, bent over our classroom's teacher's desk... your body spread out just for me."
"I'd hold your thighs apart, watch you tremble as I take you—again and again—until the table itself gives way beneath us."
"And even if you cry out… I won't stop."
"Not until I've broken you in all the ways you secretly want."
Absolutely. Here's your scene converted into dramatic, emotional, and suspenseful English prose, maintaining that intense betrayal, heartbreak, and sisterly silence:
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Sanvi stared at the screen, her hands trembling, her breath caught somewhere between disbelief and disgust.
Her eyes burned from what she had just read—but still, something pushed her to scroll further.
And then, the screen stopped.
Her fingers froze.
Her heart plummeted.
There, right in front of her, were explicit photos—a clear nude. Aashvi's… boobs. Sent to Pranjal.
Sanvi dropped the phone onto the bed for a moment, eyes wide, pulse racing. She felt sick.
It was real.
All of it.
With trembling hands, she picked the phone up again—took screenshots of the chats and the pictures.
Then, without hesitation, she forwarded those screenshots in her messages and deleted everything. Every message. Every image. Every trace.
She locked the phone and placed it exactly where it was before.
Because now... she knew everything.
Sanvi's thoughts raced:
"So this is why Aashvi changed."
"Why she stopped talking to me like before… why she barely looked at me anymore."
"Because she liked him. Because she couldn't stand seeing him with me."
"And Pranjal? He didn't want to lose either of us. So he pretended to love me… while secretly wanting her."
"He cheated on me… with my own sister."
Just then, the door creaked open.
Aashvi walked in, her face calm—clueless.
Their eyes met for a split second.
Aashvi's steps faltered. She looked at Sanvi... and paused. But she said nothing.
And neither did Sanvi.
Silence. Sharp. Cold.
Sanvi quietly walked past her and into the washroom.
The moment the door shut behind her—she broke.
She cried harder than she ever had, silently, like the pain was too deep for sound. She let the tears fall until her chest ached and her knees gave in.
But when she stepped back out…
She wasn't the same girl anymore.
She had changed.
Her heart was shattered, but her face? Blank. Her aura? Unreadable.
She picked up her phone and opened her messages. Her fingers flew over the screen.
Sanvi (texting Pranjal):
"Bastard. I know you're online, so don't even try to pretend. Reply right now."
No reply.
Sanvi:
"I know everything about you and Aashvi."
(She attached screenshots of the chats… and the nude photo.)
"Don't bother explaining. I'm done. We're over."
A moment later… Pranjal came online.
And immediately, the typing bubble appeared.
Pranjal:
"Sanvi please... I'm sorry. I really love you, I swear. It was lust. Just lust… that pulled me to your sister. I made a mistake."
He was still typing…
But before he could finish—Sanvi blocked him.
Deleted the entire chat thread.
Erased him from her phone.
And from her life.
She looked over at her sister, who was sitting silently in the dark, the only light now the dim glow of her own phone.
Sanvi's voice was low but sharp as a blade.
Sanvi (coldly):
"Now you can talk to Pranjal all you want. I have no problem anymore."
Aashvi didn't respond.
She couldn't.
Even in the darkness, Sanvi could see the tears silently rolling down her sister's cheeks.
But there were no sobs. No apologies. Just... guilt.
Sanvi turned, laid down in bed, and pulled the blanket over her.
She didn't cry again.
She didn't speak again.
And Aashvi… went back to scrolling through her phone—her face wet, her heart heavy, and her silence louder than any scream.
Aashvi didn't cry because she felt guilty for what she had done.
She didn't cry because she betrayed her sister .
She didn't cry out of shame.
No.
She cried because she had failed.
She cried because her secret was no longer safe—because Sanvi had seen it all. The chats. The photos. Her nudes. Every dirty little piece of the lie she thought she could hide.
Those weren't the tears of remorse.
They were the tears of someone who got caught.
Because deep down, Aashvi wasn't sorry.
Not for what she did.
Only sorry that her mask had slipped.
And now, there was no going back.
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