CHAPTER ELEVEN

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That night as I opened my door to keep the basket for milk outside my doorstep, I saw Rishabh taking the lift

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That night as I opened my door to keep the basket for milk outside my doorstep, I saw Rishabh taking the lift. Curious if he was going to have a repeat of last night with just a change in venue, I turned my neck to take a look at the floor numbers. To my surprise, the lift climbed up instead of down. Was he planning to hook up with one of the residents?

The lift went on higher and higher till it reached the top floor, which was the twentieth. I scratched my head trying to remember which families lived on that floor. It was a failed venture as beyond my immediate neighbors I hardly knew anyone in this building.

"Why have you kept the door open for so long? You are letting all the mosquitoes in," my mother complained from behind me. I quickly shut the door, determined to not spare him another thought. That did not go as well as expected.

I closed the door of my room, switched off the lights, and climbed under the covers. But sleep did not get the memo. After twenty minutes of blankly staring at the dark ceiling and letting my imagination go wild, I tightly shut my eyes and started counting sheep. The five hundredth sheep came by before sleep.

Massively frustrated, I tore the sheet off my body and sat up. The flat was deadly silent. My parents must have been long asleep in their room by now. Only the sounds of the crickets could be heard outside. Something was bothering me. The lullaby was missing from my nighttime routine. That was it. And so was the man responsible.

I got out of my bed with the sole goal of finding the loafer who had denied me sleep. 

I tip-toed out of the flat and took the lift to the top floor. As I saw the numbers climb up, I chewed my thumbnail. One reason I was relieved about staying on the lower floors was that I was afraid of heights. I was okay as long as I kept my neck straight and my eyes toward the pretty view. But the moment I craned my neck down and realized how far the ground actually was, I almost always lost my cookies.

Hopefully, once I reached the floor, I could see Rishabh's shoes outside one of the doors, knock gently on the said stranger's door, and ask for her guest of the evening. Yes, even in my mind I could tell something was off about that.

There were eight flats on each floor, and guess how many had shoes at the doorstep. None was the right answer. Why did this boy make everything so difficult for me?

I took a few rounds of the floor trying to determine which flat he was hiding in. Occasionally, a cold breeze would make my skin break out into goosebumps. Rubbing my arms to keep myself warm, I called uncle and decided it was time to get home after the fourth round.

As I passed the foot of the stairs leading to the terrace, I realized that it was only in this area I could feel the breeze. Climbing a few steps, I touched the door lightly. It was unlocked. Twenty floors was no joke and the terrace was supposed to be closed all the time. Why was it opened?

I pushed the door further and walked onto the terrace. I was closer to the door than the edge, and yet my heart started racing slightly. I used my phone flash to see if any other person was there with me when it lit up a person leaning over the railing.

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