Page 130 of Okay Boss
"Continue with academic questions, Professor," Mrs. Menon insisted, "or I'll call a recess to discuss this breach of protocol."
Kashyap's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Very well." He reopened the thesis to the conclusion. "Let's discuss what you found regarding subject agency in documentary storytelling."
The examination continued. Divya answered mechanically, her voice steady despite the tremor building beneath. Academic terms flowed from her lips while something fundamental cracked inside. Each question, each response, felt distant,happening to someone else while she observed from behind glass.
Forty minutes later, her viva ended. She stepped down from the podium, legs steady only because she forced them to be. A faint tremor ran through her fingers as she gathered her papers.
The next candidate was called. Then the next.
She took a seat at the back, spine straight, eyes fixed somewhere ahead. Questions floated through the room. Answers followed. Chairs scraped. Pens moved.
She registered none of it.
Time passed, but she felt suspended, caught in the space between what had just happened and whatever it meant.
One by one, the candidates finished. Bags were packed. Whispered conversations began. Someone laughed too loudly.
Divya didn't move.
The heavy wooden door finally shut with a sharp snap.
The sound jolted her back.
???
The front door of Khanna Sadan closed behind her with a solid thud.
Divya stood in the foyer, warm light washing over her after the sterile chill of the examination hall. Voices paused mid-conversation in the living room. Then footsteps approached as the family emerged to greet her.
Vikram reached her first, his face breaking into a smile. Pride shone in his eyes. He'd been waiting hours for this moment.
"There she is," he said, moving to take her hands. "How did it go?"
The brightness in his expression died the instant he truly saw her face.
She looked through him rather than at him. Her eyes were dry but distant, focused on some point beyond the present moment. Her skin seemed drained of color beneath the warm lights.
His hands fell back to his sides. "Divya?"
"Good," she replied, the word empty. "It was good."
The statement should have carried triumph. Should have been the opening to excited details about questions asked and answered. Instead, it landed between them like a stone. Factual. Heavy. Final.
Kavita stepped forward. "Divya, beta..."
"I'm tired." Divya stepped back slightly, creating distance from the warmth trying to reach her. "Going to lie down."
She moved past them all, her steps measured despite their heaviness. No eye contact. No acknowledgment of the champagne chilling on the side table or the gathered family. She climbed the stairs with careful movements, like someone carrying something fragile.
Perhaps herself.
The family watched her disappear. When her footsteps faded down the hallway, Vikram pulled his phone from his pocket. "Mrs. Menon would know. She was on the committee."
Harshit's hand settled on his son's shoulder. Not squeezing. Just present. A wordless instruction to put the call on speaker.
The family gathered closer as Vikram hit dial.
"Vikram?" Mrs. Menon's voice carried tension. She'd been expecting this call.
