The television volume was low, but the emotion was loud.
Panels argued. Experts speculated. Words like cyber terrorism, foreign hand, and national threat were thrown around carelessly, as if complexity could be buried under vocabulary.
Priya sat cross-legged on the floor, notebook forgotten beside her. She watched faces instead of headlines. She noticed who looked angry and who looked afraid.
"Why are they shouting so much?" she asked.
Arjun stirred his tea slowly. Steam rose, carrying the faint smell of ginger.
"Because silence scares people," he said.
She glanced at him. "You like silence."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Arjun did not answer immediately. He watched the tea darken as sugar dissolved unevenly.
"Because silence listens back," he said finally.
Priya nodded, as if that made sense to her. Perhaps it did.
She noticed his eyes linger on the screen when a politician denied allegations with practiced ease. She noticed how Arjun's jaw tightened, just for a second, before relaxing again.
That night, as she lay in bed, Priya wondered why her grandfather seemed heavier lately, as if he was carrying something fragile rather than something painful.
She did not know that empathy often arrives before knowledge.
(Easter egg: Priya subconsciously studies facial micro-expressions on TV. This skill becomes crucial when she later identifies deception without technical evidence.)