The rain finally eased after another hour. Bijayini, still sniffling and trembling, quickly pulled on her now-dry t-shirt and leggings. Her body ached — especially between her legs and her bruised breasts, which still bore faint red handprints under the fabric. She avoided looking at Soumya, grabbed her bag, and rushed out of the tuition center without a word. She cycled home as fast as she could, the cool wind stinging her tear-streaked face.

For the next couple of days, Bijayini completely shut down around Soumya. In school and at tuition, she refused to make eye contact. If he tried to approach or whisper her name, she turned away sharply, ignored him, or walked out of the room. Her face stayed blank and cold, but inside she felt a storm of shame, anger, and fear. Every time she sat on a bench, she remembered the pain, the thick stretch, and the warmth of his cum flooding her. She avoided the tuition center as much as possible, making excuses to her parents.