Aarohi did not notice when the laughter stopped.That was the first thing that unsettled her.Because it had not been sudden. There had been no clear moment where sound vanished, no sharp break that could be pointed to and named. It had faded instead, thinning day by day, slipping between conversations, dissolving into pauses that stretched just a little longer each time.Until now—There was nothing left.She stood near the long table where meals were distributed, hands resting lightly against the surface, watching as the others took their portions one by one.No one spoke.Not because they were told not to.Because there was nothing to say.The sound of utensils against plates echoed faintly, too clear, too sharp, as if the silence around it amplified every small movement.Rhea sat first.Of course she did.Her routine was exact now, her timing consistent, her actions measured down to repetition. She ate without hesitation, without pause, each motion efficient, precise, complete.Th