Reborn: The truth behind the love

Two weeks had passed , since Ishaani woke up in a body that wasn't hers. The shock had faded, replaced by a grim acceptance. This was Anjali's skin now, Anjali's face in every reflection—but beneath it, Ishaani's rage still burned.

No one in the prison suspected a thing. Anjali had been a newcomer, her true nature unknown. The staff had told Ishaani how the real Anjali had fallen from the rooftop during an execution viewing—an accident that should have killed her. Instead, it had become Ishaani's twisted salvation.

*Prove your innocence. Avenge them.* The mantra coiled in her chest, a living thing. But today, the weight of it felt heavier. Today, she was being sent back to prison. The hospital's sterile walls had been a reprieve; what awaited her now was a cage. Her fingers trembled slightly as she packed the meager belongings she'd been given.

Then—

***Boommmm…***

The sound jolted her, but it wasn't real. Not to anyone else. The ghost—*Anjali's* ghost—had a habit of making noise only Ishaani could hear.

The spirit hovered near the window today, translucent fingers pressed to the glass like a child fascinated by rain. Ishaani exhaled. "Do you remember anything new?" she asked quietly.

The ghost turned, eyes blank. "Remember…?"

It was always the same. Whatever Anjali had been in life, death had eroded her mind. She recalled only fragments—a name, a face (Ishaani's face now), and the hazy awareness that she was dead. The rest slipped through her fingers like smoke.

*Ghosts aren't supposed to forget,* Ishaani thought bitterly. But then, she wasn't supposed to be alive in another woman's body, either.

The door slammed open.

Warden Sudha strode in, her uniform crisp, her mouth a slash of disapproval. The doctor trailed behind, clipboard in hand. "Update me," Sudha barked. Then, with deliberate cruelty: "And what of that girl who butchered her family? What was her name—?"

Ishaani's nails bit into her palms. *Don't react.* But the words carved into her anyway: *Murderer. Disowned. Alone.* The memories surged

*Your fault.*

The doctor's voice was a distant hum. "—cleared for discharge."

Sudha's smirk was a knife twist. "Good. Your vacation's over, *princess*." She leaned in. "Oh, but I forgot. You don't have a family to miss you, do you?"

Ishaani said nothing. Anjali's ghost, still by the window, didn't even blink.

---

Cold metal cuffs chafed Ishaani's wrist, binding her to the vehicle's ribbed interior. Across from her, two constables chatted over the rumble of the engine.

"—heard they're just waiting for her to wake up," one of them muttered. "Then it's straight to the execution"

The other snorted.while glancing at is"Justice. Should've happened the day she killed them."

Her stomach clenched. *They don't know it's you.* But the words still seeped under her skin, poison in her veins.

Then—weight.

Anjali's ghost had sprawled across her lap, chin propped on Ishaani's knees, staring up with empty curiosity. "Why are you sad?" the spirit whispered.

Ishaani shut her eyes. *Because I deserve this.*

---

After two hours on the road, they finally reached the prison gate. The entrance looked old and worn, with heavy metal doors that creaked open as the police jeep rolled in, followed by the van. Inside, the two constables removed Ishaani's handcuffs. They finished the paperwork, handed her a set of plain prison clothes, and led her to her cell. The air felt cold, and the walls seemed to swallow the little light that seeped in. Ishaani took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as the door closed behind her.

The cell stank of mildew and despair.

Ishaani stood frozen in the doorway, her lungs rejecting the air—thick with sweat and old urine. The room was a concrete tomb: four bunks, three occupied by unseen inmates, the fourth buried under a landslide of junk. The floor clung to her shoes like tar.

Somewhere, a faucet dripped. *Plink. Plink.*

Anjali's ghost drifted past her, unbothered by the filth. "Home?" she asked.

Ishaani's laugh was a broken thing. "Yes."

She stepped inside. The door locked behind her.