The candles went out.
Darkness filled the room.
Only the sound of the wind moved through the old house.
Wooooshhh… Woooooshhh…
Amara's heart thumped hard.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Ravi reached for her hand. "Stay close," he whispered. His fingers were warm and strong, even in the cold air.
Somewhere in the hall, that strange laugh came again—low and sharp, like it was coming from someone who enjoyed being unseen.
"Who's there?" Ravi called, his voice echoing down the corridor.
Silence.
Then, from the far end of the hall, a small shadow moved.
Something was walking toward them… slow, soft steps.
Step… Step… Step…
Amara held her breath. Her mind told her to run, but her feet wouldn't move. The shadow came closer until a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the dark.
A black cat stepped into the light from the window.
Its fur was shiny and smooth, but its eyes were bright, almost too bright. It stopped and looked right at Amara, then at Ravi, and then back at the locket on the table.
Amara let out a shaky laugh. "It's… just a cat," she whispered.
But Ravi frowned. "That cat wasn't here before. I've never seen it in the village."
The cat walked straight into the room, jumped onto the table, and sat next to the locket and the letter. Its tail flicked once. Then it looked over its shoulder, toward the door, as if telling them to follow.
"Do you think…" Amara hesitated. "Do you think it's showing us something?"
The cat jumped down and padded out of the room. It looked back to make sure they were following.
"I think we should go," Ravi said. "I don't like the way it stares."
But Amara stepped after the cat. "It's not just a normal cat, Ravi. I can feel it."
They followed the cat through the hallway. Their footsteps echoed on the wooden floor.
Creeeak… Creeeak…
The house seemed darker in this part. The windows were covered with heavy curtains. The air smelled damp and old.
The cat stopped at a door at the far end. It scratched the wood, then sat down and waited.
Ravi reached for the handle. It was cold, almost icy. He turned it slowly, and the door opened with a long groan.
Inside was a small room, lit only by a thin beam of sunlight from a crack in the ceiling. The walls were covered in faded wallpaper, peeling in long strips. In the middle of the room was a chair, and on the chair… a coat.
Amara stepped closer. It was a man's coat, old and torn, with mud still clinging to the bottom. Something was in one of the pockets.
She pulled it out—a folded piece of paper. Her hands shook as she opened it.
It was another letter.
"My Asha,I waited at the well until the rain took my strength. They pulled me away. They said I could not see you. But I will not stop trying. If I cannot be with you in life, then I will stay in the house until the wind carries us together again.
— Raghav."
Amara pressed the letter to her chest. "He was here," she whispered. "He came inside the house."
Ravi looked uneasy. "If he never left… maybe his spirit is here too."
The cat suddenly hissed. Its fur stood up, tail puffed. It stared at the corner of the room.
Ravi turned to look.
In the shadows, a shape moved. At first it looked like smoke, curling slowly upward. Then it became a tall figure, broad-shouldered, with a dark, empty face.
The figure stepped forward. The air turned icy.
Amara grabbed Ravi's arm. "Is that—?"
But before she could finish, the figure spoke in a low, rumbling voice.
"She was mine. She will always be mine."
The voice made the room shake. The cat hissed louder and darted toward the door.
Ravi pulled Amara out of the room. The figure followed, slow but steady. The hallway seemed longer now, the walls closing in.
They ran toward the stairs. Behind them, heavy footsteps followed.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
The cat raced ahead, leading them into the main hall. They stopped, catching their breath. The house went silent again.
"Was that Raghav?" Amara asked, her voice trembling.
Ravi shook his head. "No. That wasn't him. That… felt wrong. Like it didn't belong to either of them."
The cat jumped onto the windowsill, its yellow eyes fixed on them. It meowed once, sharp and loud.
Amara crouched beside it. "Are you trying to help us?" she asked softly.
The cat blinked slowly, then looked toward the front door.
Ravi understood. "It wants us to leave."
But Amara shook her head. "Not yet. We have to finish this."
Ravi sighed. "Then we need to be careful. That thing we saw… it didn't want us here."
The rest of the day passed in a strange, tense silence. They stayed in the kitchen, where it felt safest. Ravi made tea, and they sat close to the fire. Amara noticed how his hand brushed against hers when he passed her the cup. A small warmth spread through her, even with all the fear.
"I don't know what's happening," she said softly. "But I feel like we're in the middle of something bigger than we understand."
Ravi nodded. "And we're in it together."
Their eyes met for a moment. Amara felt her cheeks warm, but she didn't look away.
That night, they slept in the same room—on opposite sides, but close enough that she could hear his breathing. The cat lay curled at the foot of her bed, its tail wrapped around its body.
Around midnight, Amara woke to a sound.
Tap… Tap… Tap…
It came from the window. She sat up slowly. The cat was awake too, its eyes glowing in the dark.
Outside the window, in the pale moonlight, stood the same dark figure. It didn't move. It just stood there, watching.
Amara's breath caught in her throat. The cat let out a low growl.
Ravi stirred and sat up. "What is it?"
She pointed to the window. But when Ravi looked, the figure was gone.
The wind outside rose suddenly, rushing through the trees.
Wooooshhh… Wooooshhh…
In that wind, Amara thought she heard a voice again—a woman's voice.
"Find him… before he finds you."
She turned to Ravi. "We have to find Raghav's spirit before that thing does."
Ravi nodded. "Tomorrow. At first light."
The cat curled back down, but its ears stayed alert. Amara lay back, staring at the ceiling, knowing that whatever haunted this house… it wasn't done with them yet.