Alam woke to a blinding glare, his eyes snapping shut as the light stabbed through his lids. A harsh beam flickered back and forth — a flashlight, wielded by a woman whose presence was as heavy as the room itself.
"You're in the Nurse's Office," she said flatly. "Name's Nurse Bright."
Her tone was as lifeless as the walls around him. She was broad and sagging, her skin folded into tired wrinkles, wiry gray hair sprouting in places it shouldn't, cropped short on her head like steel wool.
Alam blinked, forcing himself to take in the room. It was stripped of warmth — gray walls, metal cabinets, a single plant in the corner that had already given up, its leaves curled and brown.
"No concussion," Nurse Bright muttered, monotone.
"This is the Nurse's Office?" Alam asked, disbelief cracking through his voice.
"Maybe I was wrong, you seem to have short‑term memory loss," she replied, staring blankly as if reading from a script.
"I just—"
She cut him off, leaning closer, her breath sour. "Do. You. Remember. Your. Name?" Each word dropped like a hammer, and Alam recoiled, gagging at the odor.
Before he could answer, another voice sliced through the gloom — light, clear, and young.
"I can take care of him, Nurse Bright."
Alam turned toward the doorway. A teenage girl stood framed in the light, confidence etched into her posture, warmth spilling from her voice — a living contrast to the nurse's monotone. Her pale skin seemed to glow against the gloom, blonde hair catching the light like spun gold, blue eyes cutting through the gray of the room.
"Apsara..." Alam whispered, the word trembling out of him like a prayer, hushed reverence clinging to every syllable.
Nurse Bright sighed, already shuffling away. "Fine. I'll file his release forms."
Her footsteps faded, leaving Alam alone with the girl who had just rescued him from the pudding‑like shadow of Nurse Bright.
"W‑who are you?" Alam asked, voice trembling, flustered by the girl's radiant beauty.
"Who wants to know?" she teased, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
"Oh, I... um... me. Alam," he stammered, cheeks burning.
She glided toward him with effortless grace, every step deliberate. "Well, Um. Me. Alam," she mocked playfully, extending her hand. "I'm Cindy."
His palm was slick with sweat, his arm trembling as he reached for her. She stepped forward, closing the distance, her touch light but certain. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, her smile dazzling.
"Apsara... so pretty," he muttered under his breath, reverence slipping out before he could stop it.
"Thank you!" she replied gleefully, eyes sparkling.
"Oh, um... I—" He blushed, words collapsing.
"It's okay," she said warmly, leaning closer. "I like compliments."
Her glow softened the sterile room, and for a moment, Alam forgot the gloom of Nurse Bright.
"I heard they found you in a locker. That must have been scary," Cindy said, her tone shifting to gentle concern.
"It was," he admitted, voice low. "How did they find me?"
"I think a student saw what happened and reported it to campus security," she said, brow furrowing as she tried to recall.
"I'd like to know their name... so I can thank them," Alam said earnestly.
"Unfortunately, all reports are anonymous," Cindy explained, her smile fading just slightly. "It's to prevent retaliation."
"Oh..." Alam's head dropped, then snapped up. "Oh!"
"What?!" Cindy asked, brows arched.
"Ewan!" Alam blurted, panic rising in his voice.
"Ewan? You know him?" she tilted her head, curious.
"Is he alright? He was shoved in a locker across from mine."
Cindy's tone shifted, suddenly cold. "I wouldn't worry about Ewan."
Alam froze. "What? Why?"
"That jerk got what was coming to him," she said, voice sharp, almost gleeful.
Alam's chest tightened. "Why would you say that?"
Her eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering. "The little pervert sneaks into the girls' dorms... steals our unmentionables."
"Oh?! I didn't know he was that kind of person," Alam said, his voice cracking with disbelief.
"Well, he is!" Cindy shot back, eyes flashing.
"But... he seemed so nice—" Alam's words faltered, confusion twisting in his chest.
Cindy leaned closer, her tone suddenly urgent, almost pleading. "Actions show you who people truly are, Alam... not their words."
"I... what should I do?" Alam asked, voice cracking. "I'm new here, and I just... I want to make friends."
Cindy leaned in, close enough for him to feel her breath ghost against his skin. "I'll be your friend," she whispered.
Alam's chest tightened. His body trembled, sweat sliding down his temple.
"I‑um..." he coughed, trying to steady himself.
"Yes?" Cindy's whisper was feather‑light, teasing.
"Ewan said he'd show me where the Dean's Office is," Alam blurted, his voice pitched high with nerves.
"Oh? Is that all?!" Cindy sprang upright, her energy sudden and bright. "I'll take you there now!"
"But... the nurse. My paperwork."
Cindy called cheerfully toward the door, "Nurse Bright! I'm taking Alam to see the Dean, okay?"
"Fine, whatever!" the nurse grumbled.
"See? Not a problem." Cindy smiled, reaching out to pull him from the bed.
Alam stumbled, his club foot dragging across the floor. Cindy's gaze dropped. "Oh."
"Oh?" Alam echoed, heart thudding.
"Don't worry about it," she said quickly, flashing him a grin. "Chicks dig scars."
Alam blinked, giving her a questioning look.
She steadied him with her hand, her touch firm but gentle. "Come on," she said, her smile unwavering. "Let's go."