CHAPTER TWO: THREADS OF FATE
1413 Words
The morning after Anika’s birthday party, the sun filtered into Mi’s tiny room through a window she couldn’t afford to curtain. The blue dress hung neatly on a hook by the wall—clean, pressed, and wrapped in a sheet of plastic, like a keepsake from a dream she hadn’t wanted to wake from.
But Mi didn’t have the luxury to daydream for long.
She was on a mission.
After saving up for months through tutoring, stitching for local clients, and reselling old clothes, she finally had just enough money to rent a small space for the boutique she’d always dreamed of opening. It wouldn’t be anything extravagant—just a little store to call her own.
The problem was finding the right space in a town where property owners didn’t take young girls from poor families seriously.
Mi walked through the streets, peeking into empty buildings, asking questions, knocking on doors. It was almost sunset when she found a small corner space on a quiet street—barely furnished, but with a large front window and enough light to give her hope.
A short woman with tired eyes stood behind the counter.
“It’s available,” she said. “Owner’s not picky. Sign here if you want it.”
Mi didn’t even ask too many questions. Her gut told her this was it. She signed the papers with trembling hands, paid the first month’s rent, and promised to bring the rest within two weeks. The woman nodded, gave her a key, and left without saying much else.
Mi stood in the empty space, her heart racing.
“This is mine now,” she whispered.
What she didn’t know was that the property belonged to Ray’s family.
---
In the following weeks, Mi worked day and night. She stitched clothes in the back of the store, repurposed fabrics from discarded stock, and used her talent to create designs that stood out. She put up handmade posters, offered free first-day samples, and gave discounts to anyone who stopped to talk.
It started slow. A curious old woman, a young mother, two schoolgirls. Then word began to spread.
Mi’s clothes were different—simple but elegant, comfortable but unique. People began returning, asking for more. Her store was given a name by the locals: “Threaded Dreams.”
Months passed. Business grew. Mi finally paid off the rent in full, expanded her space, and hired one young helper from the neighborhood. Her dream was unfolding, stitch by stitch.
Then came the day that changed everything.
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Ray sat in his family’s drawing room with his older brother, Arman.
“Hey,” Arman said casually, flipping through the ledger. “That little property on Devika Street—the one you were going to renovate but never did? Someone’s renting it.”
Ray looked up, curious. “Really? Who?”
“Some girl. Mi, I think. Anyway, it’s time to collect this quarter’s rent. You want to go? Might be good for you to check out the business—it’s doing surprisingly well.”
Ray agreed, intrigued. He hadn’t heard Mi’s name since the party. His heart quickened slightly, but he didn’t show it.
He didn’t go alone.
That morning, as he approached the store, he was accompanied by Alina—his father’s business associate’s daughter, and the girl everyone assumed would eventually marry Ray. She was smart, stylish, and adored by their families. But to Ray, she felt more like a business arrangement than a future.
They reached the boutique just as Mi was helping a customer try on a handmade shawl.
She looked up, and her breath stopped.
Ray.
It was him, standing by the door, looking both the same and different. But the warmth in his eyes when they met hers… that was unchanged.
Mi’s heart sank when she saw Alina holding his hand.
“Hi,” Ray said quietly.
“Hello,” Mi replied, voice distant.
Alina stepped forward. “We’re here on behalf of the owner. Rent collection.”
Mi reached into the drawer, hands a little shaky, and gave the envelope she had already prepared.
Alina took it without a smile. “Thank you. Good day.”
Ray lingered.
Mi’s eyes flicked to him for just a second—just long enough to see something behind his gaze. A pause. A wish. Maybe even regret.
But Alina tugged at his hand, and they left without another word.
Mi stood there, frozen.
Two days later, it was all over the local news.
Ray Arman—successful young entrepreneur—had been in a car accident while driving to a late-night meeting. His car had collided with a truck.
Mi read the article over and over again, unable to believe it. She sat in her store, tears welling in her eyes. For reasons she didn’t understand, a deep ache settled into her chest.
Then came the second blow.
Alina, within weeks, was married to someone else—a foreign-educated businessman in Mumbai. Mi watched the headline on her cracked phone screen: “Power Couple Ties the Knot.”
Mi couldn’t stop the tears that time.
Ray was gone. His future erased. And no one seemed to care.
One quiet evening, Mi walked to the cemetery where Ray had supposedly been buried after being removed from life support. She knelt by the tombstone and whispered prayers. Her voice shook.
“You were kind… even when you didn’t have to be. And now, you’re gone. I didn’t get to say goodbye…”
As tears rolled down her cheeks, one drop fell and hit the ground in front of the stone.
The earth beneath her shook.
A sudden light flashed around her, bright enough to blind her.
And then—darkness.
---
When Mi opened her eyes, she was no longer in the cemetery.
Trees surrounded her. The sky above was pink with twilight, and birds she'd never seen before chirped in the branches.
“Where am I?” she whispered.
She walked forward, pushing past vines and brush, until she came upon a small village—stone houses, dirt paths, and people dressed in old-fashioned clothes. The whole place looked like it had stepped out of time.
Villagers stared at her as she passed. Her modern clothes, the confusion on her face—it all marked her as a stranger.
Mi approached a small hotel and asked timidly, “Do you have space for a working woman?”
The old innkeeper, a kind-eyed woman, nodded. “You can stay. If you’re willing to work.”
Mi took the offer.
In the following days, Mi cleaned rooms, helped in the kitchen, and gathered pieces of fabric from the village tailor. Her hands remembered their work—stitching, cutting, shaping dreams out of cloth.
She started making clothes again. At first, for herself. Then for a few curious villagers.
They loved her designs.
Soon, people began coming from neighboring areas to buy what they called “future-style” clothing. Word spread fast. The innkeeper gave her a room to use as a shop. Business boomed.
And then came the rich family’s attention.
A man arrived one morning in a grand cart—sharp suit, quiet presence, and eyes that looked… familiar.
It was Ray.
Mi froze.
But… how?
“You’re alive?” she whispered.
He tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
She looked around. People were watching.
“No… nothing. Sorry,” Mi said, quickly covering up.
Ray stepped forward with a formal smile. “I’m a merchant from the nearby city. I’ve heard of your work. I came to propose a collaboration. My company wants to distribute your designs.”
Mi’s heart thudded. He didn’t recognize her. Not at all.
“Do you know me?” she asked, almost trembling.
Ray frowned politely. “Have we met?”
Mi forced a laugh. “No. Sorry. You just look like someone I knew.”
He nodded, businesslike. “In that case, may I sit? We can talk about the proposal.”
She stared at him. The same eyes. The same voice. But no memory of her. Somehow, this was a different world—a place that shouldn’t even exist.
A place where Ray was alive… but didn’t know her.
She smiled sadly.
“Sure. Sit down.”
And as they began to talk, she couldn’t help but whisper to herself—
“Now that you’re alright… maybe I still have a chance.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
- Writer
