I heard the rustling sound as Drishti went through the bags.

"Gosh! This isn't a bag but a full beauty parlour," Drishti commented as she saw through various make up items.

I stood at the door, standing sideways to keep a lookout and also see what Drishti was doing.

"Sara is clear. There's nothing much in her bag other than make up," Drishti spoke putting away her bag.

One by one, she checked the bags and cellphones to see if anyone had an extra phone or sim.

I already saw through their original numbers, by peeping into an organizers file. None of their original numbers matched with the unknown number from which I received the message.

"Oh shit!! Mrunal has an extra phone. How do I check it's number? On which settings option do we find this information?" Drishti asked going through Mrunal's phone hurriedly.

"Stop wasting time. Just call on your number with that phone and then delete the call logs," I told her, looking outside nervously as two people entered the corridor.

Fortunately, they turned left instead of coming in our direction.

"Does the number match?" I asked eagerly.

"Nope. She is clear too," Drishti muttered while going through another bag.

"Damn Alisha's coach is obsessed with you. She has a whole diary about your strength and weakness. How you practice? Your diet, etc. Shit! She has even written down the timings when you go to the dance studio," Drishti spoke, looking flabbergasted.

"She looks like a plausible suspect. Does she have an extra phone?" I asked.

"No, she doesn't," Drishti said and moved to Alisha's bag.

It was the last bag and then we were done.

"Maira, Alisha has another sim card in her phone," Drishti spoke in a grim tone.

"Call and check," I spoke and turned to look outside.

Someone was coming in our direction. Dammit.

"Drishti, pack everything and leave," I spoke hurriedly as they stopped to converse with someone.

They may proceed any moment. Drishti needed to be out before that.

"But I need to check.....," she tried to protest.

"There are coming towards us. We don't have time. Hurry. You will get into a huge trouble if you get caught," I spoke, running inside.

She hurriedly packed everything and we left after Drishti put all the bags inside the locker.

Fortunately, those people were busy in their talks and didn't notice Drishti leave from the locker room.

We ran until we were far away and finally stopped at the emergency staircase.

"We were so close," Drishti muttered, stomping her leg.

"Your career would have been ruined if you got caught," I explained, rubbing my forehead feeling the same frustration that Drishti was feeling.

"When would we get such an opportunity like this to check Alisha's phone?" Drishti asked looking like she would cry any moment.

"Don't worry, we would get another chance. We are one step ahead than where we were yesterday. Don't lose hope," I tried to lift her spirits up.

She nodded and took a deep breathe to calm down.

"Half an hour is left for your performance. You get some rest before that, so you can perform with energy," I suggested and we moved towards back stage.

"Drishti," I heard Aman's voice from far.

We both turned and saw him coming towards us or rather Drishti, waving his hand.

We waited until he reached.

"I am not late, am I? He asked upon reaching.

"No not at all. Thanks for coming," Drishti assured with a smile.

"I had to. You are dedicating this dance to Maira. Don't know what I was thinking when I refused to attend her competition," he spoke, looking down in sadness.

"Oh! Before I forget. This was Maira's letter for you," Drishti said forwarding him the letter, I made her write.

"Maira's letter?" Aman asked with raised eyebrows, slowly unfolding the paper.

"This is not Maira's handwriting," Aman stated by just looking at the letter once.

Why was he so smart? Argh! I didn't know whether to feel proud that he remembered me enough to know about my handwriting or feel like hitting him for being so observant.

"Yeah, it's mine. Maira told me to write whatever she spoke as she was crying and didn't want to wet the paper. She tried once and smudged few lines from her tears so at the end she told me to write it for her," Drishti lied effortlessly.

If Aman looked closely, he would have caught her lie because of nervousness and her eye that kept darting away from him. But he wasn't aware of these things. It was something, only her Mom and I knew.

"Oh okay," saying this he started reading the paper.

I am confused. Where should I start from? Do I apologize for being selfish? How can I when I still want you to attend my competition?

I was wrong when I talked rubbish about your Grandma's funeral but my hurt was true.

I had seen and heard you cry because of her tormenting and insulting your mother. Should we just forget about the bad deeds just because she died?

The fact that you chose someone who constantly belittled your mother over me, was the thing that hurt me the most.

But now after thinking about it for a while, I understood that coming to that decision would have been so hard for you. You weren't going there for your Grandmother. You made this decision for your father. To be a shoulder for him to lean on.

It was definitely more important than attending my competition. I should have known that even from far, you were supporting me.

I understood all this now. A little late, ain't I?

Please forgive my selfishness and do what a son should do. Be there for your parents. I promise, I won't be angry for choosing to do this. You are doing a right thing.
                                                

                                           Love Maira.