I climbed down from the train carrying my backpack; the large clock in the railway station showed 7:30 p.m. I weaved my way through the crowd towards the exit.
I heard a familiar female voice, I turned to find her standing in the dimly lit station.
“Prema, why are you standing there? we have to get a cab”, exclaimed Prema’s sister as she pulled her away.
Seeing her again, the wound caused by the invisible arrow started hurting again.