!!Story Time!!
Sahil P.O.V
I stood at the edge of the terrace, the marble cool beneath my hands as I leaned into the stone railing. Venice shimmered under the moonlight, but even its beauty felt tired tonight. Below me, Dev was speaking to one of his father's old contacts, Justin pacing beside him. Gulafsha had taken Radhika inside after she looked a little dizzy.
Only Ishika remained with me.
She hadn't said much since the notebook revelation—her silence, sharp and watching.
"Ishika?" I said, softly.
She didn't look at me.
"You're thinking about something. Say it."
She sighed and finally met my eyes. "Something's wrong with Radhika."
I straightened. "You mean physically?"
"No," she shook her head, stepping beside me, arms folded. "I mean deeper. She's always been intense with her stories, but this… the way she wrote things she couldn't possibly know? That's not just coincidence, Sahil."
"You think she's involved?"
"I think she's *connected*," she whispered. "Somehow. Without knowing it."
I looked away, throat tight. "Then we protect her. We all do."
Ishika nodded. "And we keep her away from Aarya's influence… even if that means hiding parts of this from her."
That unsettled me—but I couldn't deny the logic.
Below, Dev called out. "We leave in an hour. Get what you need."
---
*POV: Radhika*
Gulafsha sat on the bed beside me, brushing my hair gently like she used to do back in college. It was comforting—like we were just girls again, not chess pieces in someone's dark game.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
"I don't know," I admitted. "It's like the words I wrote were never mine. And now they're chasing us."
"You wrote them because something in you knew," she said, "not because you're broken. Don't let it scare you, Radhi. Let it guide you."
I wanted to believe her.
But every time I blinked, I saw ink stains on white pages. And sometimes, they looked like eyes.
---
### **Scene Shift: Outside the Locked Wing**
The team gathered quietly in the back hallway of the villa's old east wing—a section long sealed off, according to the caretaker. It was where Dev's father once worked, hid, stored memories no one was supposed to find.
Dev held the notebook in one hand, flashlight in the other. The others fell in behind—Sahil, Justin, Gulafsha, Ishika… and me.
As we opened the creaking doors, dust whispered from the darkness. Old records. Hidden files. Symbols on the walls that even I didn't recognize, though I'd written about them once.
Something had started here. Something that hadn't yet ended.
And now… we were walking into it.
---
Absolutely. Here's the **next chapter** of your novel —
a mix of *psychological mystery, emotional memory, and rising suspense*,
titled **"The Memory Files."**
This chapter continues after Aarya's chilling monologue, and now shifts back to **Radhika's POV** as she uncovers something deeply personal — a forgotten connection buried in the past.
---
### **Chapter: The Memory Files**
*POV: Radhika*
I couldn't sleep that night.
The wind outside had grown louder, but the noise inside my head was worse. Justin had dozed off on the couch. Ishika and Gulafsha were still in their room, though I could hear faint laughter — trying to force normalcy into a night that didn't feel normal.
Something was wrong.
And I didn't know what.
I found myself pacing the marble hallway of the villa, the old wooden floors of the west wing creaking under my bare feet. I didn't know why I was walking toward the study — just that something inside me *needed* to.
Dev's father had spent a lot of time in this part of the house. More than usual.
He was quiet lately. Too quiet. Since our arrival in Italy, he'd been helpful… even kind. But there was a shadow behind his smile, a pause before every sentence. Justin noticed it too. And now… I couldn't ignore it.
I pushed open the door to the study.
The scent of old paper, cigar smoke, and varnish hit me immediately. Bookshelves covered the walls like a fortress. On the far side, beneath a portrait, stood a small desk. Nothing remarkable. Except for the drawer — locked.
And dusty.
But recently used.
I knew it before I even touched it.
Dev had once told me, *"My father keeps records of everything. He's obsessive about his journals."*
I didn't know what I was looking for.
But I found it.
---
A small brown leather box, hidden behind false wooden backing in the drawer. Inside, a USB drive. Labeled in faded ink:
**"Memory Files — 2003 to 2009. Confidential."**
My chest tightened.
That was the year everything changed for my family.
That was the year my sister died.
Or so I thought.
---
I slipped the drive into my laptop, fingers shaking.
The files loaded slowly.
One by one.
* **Video Footage**
* **Medical Notes**
* **Surveillance Reports**
* **Aarya\_R\_VoiceLogs.wav**
I froze.
The last one… her name.
Not just her name. *My name.*
I pressed play.
And then — a voice.
Childlike. Hesitant.
"Is… is Radhika okay? Does she remember me? Tell her I didn't want to leave… they took me away, but I didn't forget…"
My breath caught.
I hadn't heard that voice in over twenty years.
And yet every cell in my body remembered it.
Aarya.
My sister.
Alive.
---
I dropped the headphones, stumbled backward, tears flooding my vision. The screen now showed grainy security footage of a girl — my age, my face — but hardened. Watching me from across the street. Again and again. Paris. London. Jaipur. Venice.
She'd been following me.
*She was the reason we were being watched.*
And Dev's father… he knew.
He helped her.
---
At that moment, the door creaked open.
It was **Gulafsha**, rubbing her eyes.
"Radhika? What are you doing here at this hour?"
I wiped my tears quickly.
"Come in," I said softly. "You need to see this."
Soon, **Ishika** joined too, still in her pajamas, her face going pale as she watched the screen.
"We need to tell the others," she whispered.
I nodded.
"But we do it carefully," I said, staring back at the flickering screen. "Because whoever she's become now… she's not the same girl I lost."
"She's not a ghost," I added.
"She's a storm."
---
**End of Chapter**