Heartstrings and URLs

Chapter 12: Breaking Point

Ankit's fingers tightened around his phone as he listened to the stranger's voice.

Who the hell was this guy?

And more importantly—where was Jasmine?

His heart pounded against his ribs as he tried to stay calm.

"I don't know where she lives. I don't know where she is right now." His voice was sharp, laced with frustration and fear. "But I care about her more than you can imagine. So, tell me—what the hell happened to her?"

The line was silent for a second before the man spoke again, his voice steady but unreadable. "She's safe for now. She's drunk and out of her senses, so I locked her in a room for the night."

Ankit's blood ran cold.

"You did what?"

"Look, she was spiraling. Talking about things no one should ever talk about. I couldn't leave her alone like that. I stayed back too—I'm sleeping on the couch."

Ankit's breath was ragged. He wanted to trust that this guy wasn't lying, but Jasmine was vulnerable right now. If anything happened to her—

His voice dropped, dangerously low. "I don't know who you are, but if you even think about harming my girl, you have no idea who you're messing with. I'll make sure you rot in jail."

The man—Ayaan—chuckled dryly. "Relax, lawyer. I'm not your enemy."

Ankit gritted his teeth. "Then prove it. Tell me where she is."

Ayaan sighed. "She's not in a state to talk right now. I'll make sure she gets home safe tomorrow."

Ankit wanted to argue, wanted to demand an address, but deep down, he knew he was powerless. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

His grip on his phone tightened. "If anything happens to her—"

"Nothing will. Goodnight, Ankit."

The line went dead.

Ankit stared at his phone, heart pounding, mind racing.

Jasmine, what the hell have you done?

Morning Scene

The sun streamed through the curtains when Jasmine woke up.

Her head was spinning, her throat dry, her entire body aching. She blinked against the bright light, her vision adjusting.

Where was she?

Then, she turned her head—and saw him.

Ayaan. Asleep on the couch, arms crossed, his expression unreadable even in sleep.

And then—it hit her.

The party.

The drinks.

The breakdown.

She sat up too quickly, a wave of nausea hitting her. What the hell did I do last night?

Her stomach clenched. She didn't want to remember. Didn't want to think about the fact that she had told Ayaan things she had never said out loud.

Her fingers itched for her phone. She needed to leave. Now.

But before she could think—before she could process anything—her mind whispered the one thing she had been trying to suppress for months.

You don't belong anywhere.

Her breathing grew uneven.

She stood up, legs shaking as she stumbled toward the balcony.

The cool morning air hit her face as she stepped onto the ledge.

One jump. Just one.

She closed her eyes, letting the dizziness take over.

And then—

She jumped.

The impact wasn't what she expected.

A sharp pain shot through her knee as she crashed onto the ground. A searing, white-hot pain. Her head smacked against the pavement, her vision swimming.

And then—darkness.

Ayaan woke up to the sound of shouting.

His heart lurched as he ran toward the balcony, looking over—

And there she was.

Lying on the ground, motionless.

"Jasmine!"

Without wasting a second, he sprinted downstairs, pushing past the early morning crowd.

By the time he reached her, people had already gathered, murmuring in hushed voices.

Ayaan dropped to his knees beside her, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse.

She was alive. Barely conscious.

Shit.

She groaned in pain, her eyelashes fluttering as she tried to move.

"Stay still, idiot," Ayaan muttered, his voice rough. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears pricked at her eyes. "I—"

"Save it." His jaw clenched. "You're going to the hospital."

He pulled out his phone, dialing a number he never thought he'd have to call.

Jasmine's parents.

At the Hospital

Jasmine lay in a hospital bed, her leg bandaged, a dull pain radiating through her body.

She stared at the ceiling, numb.

She had messed up. Again.

Her parents hadn't arrived yet, but Ayaan had called someone else. Someone who could help cover for her.

Neha rushed into the hospital room, breathless. "What happened?"

Ayaan rubbed a hand over his face. "She jumped."

Neha's eyes widened in horror. "What?"

Ayaan sighed. "Look, I need you to help me with something. When her parents get here, we tell them she was in a road accident."

Neha hesitated. "Ayaan—"

"You want them to know the truth?" he asked bluntly. "You want them to hear that their daughter tried to kill herself?"

Neha swallowed hard, looking at Jasmine's unconscious form.

Ayaan continued. "They need to think this was an accident. We'll say we were having a school get-together. She was crossing the road, and—boom. Car hit her."

Neha's fingers tightened into fists. "I hate lying."

"Yeah?" Ayaan said darkly. "So do I. But we both know Jasmine. She wouldn't survive the weight of their disappointment."

Neha looked at Jasmine again. Her best friend from school. The girl who used to be full of life, who used to dream big, who used to laugh over the stupidest things.

Now, she was lying in a hospital bed, broken in more ways than one.

Neha sighed. "Fine. We lie."

Ayaan nodded. "Good."

They both turned as footsteps echoed outside the hospital room.

Jasmine's parents had arrived.

The lie had to begin now.