The sound of the gate slamming shut still echoed in Veer's ears.
He turned back toward Aarohi.
She stood exactly where she had been, rain dripping from her hair, her white dress fluttering slightly in the cold wind. Yet strangely, she didn't look cold at all.
"Where did my bike go?" Veer asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Aarohi tilted her head slightly, as if the question amused her.
"The haveli doesn't like visitors leaving so soon," she said softly.
Veer frowned. "This isn't funny. I just want to go home."
For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—regret, maybe pain.
She stepped aside and gestured toward the massive wooden door behind her.
"Then come inside," she said. "It's safer there."
Safer.
The word felt wrong.
Before Veer could argue, the wind howled louder, and the lights outside flickered once… then died completely. The road behind him disappeared into darkness, as if it had never existed.
Left with no choice, Veer stepped inside the haveli.
The door closed on its own.
The air inside was warm, unnaturally so.
Tall ceilings loomed above him, cracked chandeliers hanging like frozen tears. The walls were lined with old portraits—men, women, children—all staring straight ahead.
Too straight.
Veer felt their eyes follow him as he walked.
"Who lived here?" he asked.
Aarohi walked beside him now, close enough that he could feel her presence. Not cold. Not ghostly. Human.
"People who loved deeply," she replied. "And suffered more deeply."
They stopped near a staircase that spiraled upward into shadows.
Veer noticed something strange.
Dust covered everything… except the floor beneath their feet.
"This place is… alive," he murmured.
Aarohi looked at him sharply. "You feel it too?"
"Feel what?"
"That it's breathing."
A sudden thump echoed from upstairs.
Veer stiffened. "We're not alone."
Aarohi's fingers brushed against his hand—accidentally, or maybe not.
The touch sent a strange warmth through him, calming his racing heart.
"Whatever you hear," she said quietly, "don't respond."
Another sound followed.
This time, it wasn't footsteps.
It was his name.
"Veer…"
The voice came from the hallway to the left.
It sounded exactly like him.
Veer stepped back. "That's not possible."
Aarohi moved in front of him instinctively, her expression suddenly protective.
"The haveli plays with memories," she said. "And regrets."
"Why me?" Veer asked. "Why bring me here?"
She hesitated.
"Because you once made a promise," she said finally.
"And promises don't die easily."
Before he could ask more, one of the portraits on the wall cracked, a thin line splitting the painted face.
From inside the frame, something whispered—
"Stay."
The lights flickered back on.
Aarohi grabbed Veer's wrist tightly.
"We need to move," she said, urgency replacing her calm tone.
"Before the haveli remembers everything."
🌑 TO BE CONTINUED… (Part 3) hai