INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – NIGHT
The soft hum of machines.
The beep… beep… beep of the heart monitor.
Steady. Too steady for a woman whose world just died.
Mahi lies in the hospital bed, bandaged, pale, a needle in her arm.
Her back is wrapped in gauze.
Oxygen pipes rest near her mouth, but she doesn't use them.
She just breathes. Barely.
A nurse enters quietly, checks her vitals. Mahi doesn't react.
She stares at the ceiling — blank.
Her eyes are open.
Tears stream down, silently.
Like her body is crying for her because her soul can't anymore.
The nurse gently wipes her forehead.
NURSE (softly):
"Doctor Mahi… you're safe now."
But Mahi doesn't speak.
The nurse frowns, then picks up a chart.
A bouquet sits on the side table. White lilies. No card.
Mahi glances at them.
Her voice, dry as ash:
MAHI:
"Throw them."
The nurse looks confused.
NURSE:
"They're—"
MAHI (firm, hollow):
"Throw them away."
The nurse hesitates, then takes them out quietly.
The door closes.
Now it's just her.
Alone.
---
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT
She slowly sits up. Wincing.
Every movement hurts. But she doesn't stop.
She swings her legs off the bed — feet on the cold floor.
She opens the drawer beside her. Pulls out an old photo.
It's her and Ahaan.
Smiling. Holding ice cream. Rain pouring in the background.
She runs her thumb over his face…
Then rips the photo in half.
Tosses the pieces into the biohazard bin.
MAHI (soft whisper):
"Even poison comes with a warning."
---
FLASHBACK – A FEW DAYS AGO
Ahaan's voice echoing.
> "I'll always protect you."
> "I'll never hurt you, Mahi…"
Gunshot.
Blood.
His arms wrapped around Mishri — not her.
---
BACK TO PRESENT
She clutches her chest.
Not because of her wound.
But because her heart feels like it's bleeding.
She screams — but no sound comes out.
And then finally…
She curls up in the hospital bed,
like a child abandoned by the world.
Tears fall.
No one sees them.
Because no one stayed.
---