Arin didn't sleep that night.
Neither did Aarohi.
Riaan remained near the window, silent now, like he had said enough.
The room felt different.
Not haunted.
Watched.
Arin stood up suddenly.
"This is not okay."
Aarohi looked at him.
"What isn't?"
"All of this," he said sharply. "Ghosts. Death interruptions. Something choosing you. This is not normal."
Her hands tightened in her lap.
"My life hasn't been normal since I started remembering."
Arin ran a hand through his hair.
"You're not supposed to carry this. None of this is your burden."
Riaan's voice came quietly from behind.
"It became her burden the night she survived."
Arin turned toward the sound instinctively.
He still couldn't see him.
But now—
He felt him.
"Stop," Arin said firmly. "Stop talking to her like this."
Riaan's tone didn't change.
"She deserves the truth."
"She deserves peace."
Silence fell.
Aarohi stood up slowly.
"Peace was never promised to me."
Arin's expression cracked.
"Don't say that."
She looked at him, eyes tired.
"From the moment I was kept alive, something changed. If he's right… if something interfered… then my second life isn't just a second chance."
Her voice lowered.
"It's a continuation."
Arin shook his head.
"You don't know that."
"I feel it," she whispered.
Riaan stepped closer.
"And it's getting closer."
Arin's jaw tightened.
"Closer to what?"
Riaan didn't look at him.
"To claiming what it paused."
The air grew heavier.
Aarohi's pulse began to race.
"Claiming what?"
Riaan's eyes softened.
"You."
---
Later That Night
Arin walked Aarohi to the balcony for air.
The sky was dark, clouds hiding the stars.
"You're not alone," Arin said quietly.
She leaned against the railing.
"I know."
"Then stop looking at him like he's the only answer."
Her breath caught.
"I'm not."
Arin looked at her carefully.
"You look at him like you still belong to that life."
The words hurt.
"I don't belong there," she said softly. "I died there."
"And yet you keep going back."
She closed her eyes.
"Because he's not finished."
Arin stepped closer.
"And what about me?"
Silence.
His voice trembled slightly.
"I've been here. In this life. In your present. Watching you fall apart over someone who already lived his time."
Aarohi's chest tightened.
"He didn't get his time."
"And that's not your fault!" Arin burst out.
Her voice broke.
"But he thinks it is."
Riaan's quiet whisper cut through.
"It was my choice."
Arin turned sharply.
"You chose to die. That doesn't give you the right to pull her into whatever this is."
Riaan's gaze didn't waver.
"I'm not pulling her."
"She's already tied."
The wind picked up.
Aarohi felt dizzy.
Something felt wrong.
Different from Riaan.
This presence wasn't familiar.
It wasn't warm.
It wasn't regret.
It was colder.
Thinner.
Sharper.
Arin noticed her sway.
"Aarohi?"
She gripped the railing.
"I feel it."
Riaan stiffened.
"So do I."
The air seemed to stretch.
Like invisible fingers brushing across the edge of reality.
Arin couldn't see anything.
But the silence changed.
A faint distortion appeared near the far end of the balcony.
Like heat waves in summer air.
Except it felt wrong.
Heavy.
Watching.
A whisper brushed against Aarohi's ear.
Not Riaan's voice.
Different.
Lower.
"You were returned."
Her breath froze.
Arin grabbed her arm.
"What?"
Aarohi's lips trembled.
"It's here."
Riaan moved in front of her instinctively.
The distortion thickened.
"You were paused."
The voice did not echo.
It pressed.
"You are unfinished."
Aarohi's heartbeat became violent.
"What do you want?" she whispered.
The air tightened around her chest.
"You were spared."
A pause.
"Now you will complete what was interrupted."
Riaan's form flickered slightly.
"You don't get to touch her."
The distortion pulsed once.
"You stayed beyond your limit."
The air around Riaan dimmed faintly.
Aarohi felt panic.
"What is it talking about?"
Riaan didn't answer.
The voice continued.
"The bond should have ended."
Arin stepped in front of Aarohi.
"Enough! Whatever this is, leave her alone!"
The distortion shifted slightly toward him.
But then returned to her.
"You cannot avoid correction."
Aarohi's knees nearly gave out.
Correction.
She whispered:
"What am I supposed to correct?"
Silence.
Then—
"You will remember."
The distortion thinned.
Faded.
Not gone.
Just withdrawn.
The air returned.
But something had changed.
Arin held her tightly.
"What just happened?"
Aarohi's breathing was uneven.
"It wasn't here to scare me."
Riaan's voice was low.
"It was here to warn you."
Arin's eyes hardened.
"Warn her of what?"
Riaan looked at Aarohi.
"Your survival wasn't mercy."
The weight of the sentence pressed into her bones.
"It was delay."
Aarohi felt something crack inside her.
Not fear.
Not grief.
Understanding.
Her second life wasn't a gift.
It was unfinished business.
And whatever had paused her death—
Had just returned.