A week later, as the seven friends walked toward the old academic block, they noticed something unusual.

The notice board outside the corridor had a new sheet pinned to it.

"Detention Room 17 will remain permanently closed from next Monday. The old academic block will undergo renovation."

No one spoke.

Ayaan was the first to break the silence.

"So... today's our last detention."

For the first time, the word detention didn't sound like a punishment.

It sounded like a goodbye.

Inside the room, everything looked exactly the same—the seven desks, the old clock, the faded curtains.

Yet somehow, everything felt different.

Mrs. Sharma entered a few minutes later.

"I thought I'd find all of you here."

Reyansh smiled.

"I don't think any of us wanted to miss today."

She nodded and placed a small cardboard box on the table.

"I want each of you to write one sentence."

"Not about yourselves."

"About what this room gave you."

One by one, they picked up a piece of paper.

No one rushed.

No one joked.

For once, every word mattered.

Because sometimes the hardest goodbyes are to the places that quietly changed us... even when we never meant to stay.