Shaadi Ka Contract: Terms and Conditions of the Heart

That night, Aarohi sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, a pile of exam papers untouched beside her, the silence pressing in like a second skin.

She'd told her father everything over dinner.

Almost everything.

She hadn't mentioned the part about Viransh. Not yet. Not because she wanted to protect him—but because she needed to be sure herself. The timing, the influence, the subtle shift in the school's attitude... it all lined up too perfectly to be coincidental. But accusations without proof? That was exactly what she was fighting against.

Her father had listened silently, his knuckles whitening around the edge of his steel tumbler.

"They're trying to silence you," he'd said finally, his voice low. "That's never a good sign."

"I know," she whispered.

"And you're not going to stop, are you?"

She shook her head.

He'd nodded once, then pushed the roti basket toward her. "Eat. If you're going to fight, you need strength."

Now, hours later, she sat in the glow of her study lamp, Kabir's case files open in front of her, a notebook filled with scribbled names and dates. She was looking for patterns, loopholes—anything that could unravel the tidy little trap the administration had laid.

A soft knock at her window broke her focus.

She turned just as Sanjana climbed through like she'd done a hundred times in their teenage years.

"Really?" Aarohi blinked. "What are you, twelve?"

"Emotionally? Always," Sanjana grinned, waving a packet of chocolate pastries. "Also, I didn't want to ring the bell and explain to your mom why I'm breaking into your room at midnight."

Aarohi couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. "You're impossible."

Sanjana plopped down beside her, eyeing the documents spread across the floor. "So this is your crime board?"

"Less crime board, more teacher-turned-investigator," Aarohi muttered, flipping a page. "But yeah, close."

Sanjana grew serious. "You're really going through with this?"

"I have to."

"You could lose your job."

"I'd lose a lot more if I let this go."

They sat in silence, the quiet hum of the night broken only by the occasional bark of a street dog and the far-off whirr of an auto passing by.

Then Sanjana asked, "Still think Viransh is involved?"

Aarohi's fingers froze over a paper. "I don't know."

"But you suspect him."

She exhaled. "After that night... how calm he was. Like he already knew something. And now this? It's too convenient."

Sanjana leaned back against the wall. "You always said he plays games four moves ahead."

"Exactly. And no one knew about Kabir's midterm answer key outside the staff. So how did it end up in his inbox?"

Sanjana narrowed her eyes. "Could someone on the inside be helping?"

"I'm sure of it. But no one's talking. They're all afraid."

Aarohi looked down at the notebook again, eyes scanning the list of faculty and their positions. One name was circled.

Neha Sharma – Administrative Assistant. Handles digital exam copies.

"She's the one who sends final versions of the exams to the printer and coordinates staff emails," Aarohi said aloud. "If anyone had access... it's her."

"You think she leaked it?"

"She's worked here for years. Quiet, doesn't make waves. But she's also close to Principal Sharma. If she was told to do it..."

Sanjana finished for her, "She wouldn't ask questions."

Aarohi rubbed her forehead. "I'm going to try talking to her tomorrow. If she shuts me down, I'll know she's hiding something."

Before Sanjana could reply, Aarohi's phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: "Stay out of things that don't concern you, Ms. Desai. Before you regret it."

Her blood ran cold.

She showed the message to Sanjana without a word.

Sanjana's expression turned stone-like. "Whoever this is, they're scared of you."

"I'm a teacher, Sanju," Aarohi whispered. "I shouldn't be getting threatened. This isn't some political drama. It's a school."

Sanjana took her hand. "And that's exactly why you need to keep going. Because if they're willing to play dirty over this, imagine what else they've buried."

The next morning, Aarohi reached the school earlier than usual.

The hallways were still, the classrooms dark. But as she turned the corner toward the admin wing, she spotted Neha Sharma hunched over her desk, earbuds in, typing rapidly.

Aarohi approached quietly.

"Ms. Sharma?"

Neha jumped, quickly minimizing her screen.

"Oh! Ms. Desai. You startled me."

"Sorry," Aarohi said, keeping her tone light. "I just... had a few questions."

Neha straightened. "About?"

"The midterm email Kabir supposedly received. You're in charge of uploading exam files, right?"

"I... yes, I handle most of that."

Aarohi nodded. "And you're the only one with access to those answer keys before the test?"

"Yes. Well, technically, they're emailed to me by the staff. I store them on the shared drive and send them to the printer under Principal Sharma's timeline."

A pause.

"Did anyone else ask you to send that particular file? Or access Kabir's school email?"

Neha's eyes flickered. "Ms. Desai, I'm not supposed to discuss internal processes—"

"I'm not asking you to betray anyone," Aarohi said gently. "I'm just trying to understand. Because a student's future is on the line."

Neha looked down at her desk.

"I didn't send anything to Kabir," she whispered. "But... I did get a call that night. From someone on the board. They said there was an 'update' to the file. Told me to use the revised version and delete the original. I didn't ask questions."

Aarohi's heart thudded. "And you did it?"

"I didn't know what was different," Neha said, almost pleadingly. "They said it was a formatting fix. I swear."

Aarohi placed a hand over her mouth, stepping back slowly. Her suspicions were no longer just suspicions.

Someone had tampered with the midterm.

And it wasn't an accident.

"Thank you," she said, voice tight. "If anyone asks—this conversation never happened."

Neha gave her a scared nod and returned to her screen.

Aarohi walked back to her class with a thousand thoughts buzzing like bees.

She needed help. She needed leverage.

And she needed to figure out exactly who was protecting the lie.

Because now she had a trail.

And whether or not Viransh was part of it, his world—this world—was already cracking beneath her feet.

Who knew a math teacher could be the heroine of a school-wide takedown? (Spoiler: me. Vote for her.)