The Star That Was Ours

It was Friday night, and the sky was perfectly clear.

Zara sat on the rooftop, her chin resting on her knees, her eyes fixed on a single star. It shone brighter than all the rest — blue-white and sharp, as if the sky had lit it just for her.

"You're watching too, aren't you, Ayaan?" she whispered, as if the star could hear her. "I'm here. I'm keeping the promise."