That night, Aryan didn't celebrate with a party. He went to his room, picked up the worn-out Xam Idea , and flipped to the very last page. It was blank except for the library due date.
He wrote the answer. He understood it. For the first time, he felt like a scientist.
He smiled. He grabbed a red pen and wrote on the inside cover: "Rohan—2025 batch. Don't skip the HOTS. And balance oxygen last. - Aryan, 2024."
But tonight was different. Tonight, fear had a new flavor: the Pre-Board result . He had scored 42/80 in Science. Forty-two. His father hadn't shouted; he had just sighed. That sigh was heavier than any shout.
Drainage West Yorkshire