The Forgotten Diary Act II – Cracks in the Mirror

It began with something as boring as cleaning.

Rhea had barked a list of chores before rushing off to a kitty party—ironic, given how little she ever did herself.

Aanya was in the guest room, pulling out a half-dusty suitcase from under the bed, when it happened. The old zipper caught on a corner of fabric, and with one final tug, the case popped open—contents spilling slightly onto the floor.

Mostly scarves. A few silk ones that still held the sharp, flowery perfume Rhea wore like armour.

And then… tucked between a velvet pouch and a box of old bangles…

A journal.

Not leather-bound or antique—just an ordinary brown spiral notebook with gold-ink edges. The initials “R.K.” were scribbled on the front. Rhea Kapoor.

Aanya stared at it for a long moment.

She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t.

But something inside her had already cracked.

She flipped it open.

Entry: March 12

He actually believed I was worried about Aanya sneaking out. He trusts so easily when I speak softly enough.

A little distance between them does wonders. She’s always been too needy. A little discipline will do her good.

Aanya’s hand froze mid-turn. Her breath stopped.

She flipped again.

Entry: April 2

Told Rajeev I caught her lying about missing school. He got upset just like I knew he would. I didn’t even have to push. He’s so easy to guide when he thinks I’m just trying to be a good wife.

Her heart thundered. Her throat tightened as if it were physically closing in.

There were more entries.

Small. Scattered. But enough.

It wasn’t just emotional coldness anymore. It was strategy. Calculation. Intentional sabotage.

She wanted to scream. Throw the notebook. March straight to her father.

But she knew how it would go.

“You’re misinterpreting things.”

“She’s trying her best.”

“You’re reading too much into it.”

Instead, Aanya tucked the notebook back carefully. Took pictures of the pages on her phone.

Then left the room like nothing had happened.

That evening, her father came home later than usual. Aanya watched from the hallway as Rhea kissed him on the cheek and whispered something in his ear.

She noticed how his face changed.

From open to guarded. From light to dim.

By the time he walked past Aanya, he barely made eye contact.

Another pattern.

The diary had just confirmed it.

That night, she texted Nisha:

Can I talk to you? It’s kind of serious.

Nisha replied almost instantly:

Of course. What’s going on?

Aanya hesitated. Then sent a photo of the diary entry.

Then another.

Nisha’s reply came a minute later:

Holy crap. This is bad.

You’re not crazy. You’re not imagining this.

We’ll figure this out. Together.

Aanya stared at her screen.

Her hands were still shaking, but this time… it wasn’t fear.

It was the beginning of something sharper.

Resolve.