INT. ORPHANAGE – DAY – GOA COUNTRYSIDE (PRESENT TIME)
Children laugh in the distance.
The sun filters through the old windows of a modest, peaceful orphanage. Outside, the wind blows gently across dry leaves. A chalkboard reads: "Smile, even if you're broken."
MAHI sits alone in a quiet corner — wearing a pale blue kurta, a simple white scarf around her neck.
Her eyes stare at the children playing in the courtyard.
But she isn't seeing them.
Her hand gently cradles a mug of cold tea.
Untouched.
Next to her, a child — around six — places a daisy in her lap and runs away giggling.
She smiles, faintly. But it fades.
---
INT. ORPHANAGE ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Mahi steps into a small supply room.
It's quiet. Dim.
She shuts the door behind her.
Leans back against it.
The silence swallows her.
She closes her eyes…
And her mind takes her back —
---
FLASHBACK – INT. INTELLIGENCE BASE HALLWAY – NIGHT (4 MONTHS AGO)
That haunting moment again.
Mahi, standing outside Ahaan's cabin door.
Watching.
Ahaan and a woman.
The kiss.
Soft.
Not forced.
Not painful.
Not resisted.
She doesn't know who the woman is.
But she remembers the way his hand rested on her arm.
How still he was.
---
BACK TO PRESENT – ORPHANAGE
Mahi opens her eyes.
Her throat tightens.
She whispers into the quiet:
MAHI (softly):
"Did she love you more than I did…?"
Her voice breaks.
MAHI:
"Or did you love her more… because she was there when I wasn't?"
She wipes a tear quickly, as if embarrassed.
Behind her, a nun enters silently and speaks kindly.
NUN:
"The children say you don't eat much, Doctor."
MAHI (clears throat):
"I eat… when I can."
NUN (smiles):
"They like you.
They said you're like sunlight. Even when you're sad."
Mahi offers a weak smile.
She looks out the window again.
Her eyes ache with everything she can't say.
And in her chest, a love still burns —
but she doesn't know if it belongs to the past...
or if it ever belonged to her at all.
---