Aarohi’s POV
The balcony was silent.
Too silent.
Moonlight spilled across the floor of my balcony, pale and cold, while the curtains behind me swayed gently with the night breeze. I sat there hugging Nanu’s photograph close to my chest, trying to calm the storm inside my mind.
But tonight felt different.
Heavier.
Like the silence itself was watching me.
My eyes burned from exhaustion, yet sleep stayed far away. Every time I tried to close my eyes, yesterday’s panic returned all over again.
And then—
“Aarohi…”
My entire body froze.
The whisper was soft.
Almost affectionate.
But terrifying enough to stop my breathing.
I jerked upright so quickly that the photo frame nearly slipped from my hands. My fingers tightened around it instantly.
“W-who’s there?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
No response.
Only the sound of wind brushing against the railing.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look around. The balcony was empty. Completely empty.
Then why did it feel like someone was standing right behind me?
A cold shiver crawled down my spine.
“Aarohi…”
This time it sounded closer.
Real.
Too real.
My heartbeat turned uneven. I could hear it loudly inside my ears as panic slowly wrapped around my chest.
“Please…” I whispered shakily, tears burning my eyes. “Please stop…”
The air suddenly felt colder.
Not normal cold.
The kind that sinks into your skin.
I looked toward the far corner of the balcony and for one horrifying second—
I thought I saw a shadow move.
My breath hitched.
“Nanu…” I whispered helplessly, clutching the frame tighter. “This isn’t real… right?”
But deep down…
I wasn’t convincing myself anymore.
The whisper came again.
Closer.
Lower.
Almost like someone was trying to reach me.
“Aarohi…”
Fear completely swallowed me after that.
I slowly sank to the floor, curling into myself while hugging the photo against my chest like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.
My eyes felt heavy.
My breathing hurt.
And somewhere between fear and exhaustion…
sleep finally pulled me under.
---
The next morning, sunlight touched my face softly.
“Aaru! Wake up!”
I blinked slowly and found Rhea kneeling beside me, looking half worried and half annoyed.
“You slept here again?” she asked.
For a moment, I just stared at her blankly.
Then last night hit me all at once.
The whisper.
The shadow.
That feeling.
My eyes instantly moved around the balcony.
Nothing.
No shadow.
No strange presence.
Everything looked painfully normal.
But my chest still felt tight.
“You okay?” Rhea asked softly this time.
I forced a small smile. “Yeah… I’m fine.”
She didn’t look convinced.
Honestly?
Neither was I.
The dining hall felt warm and alive compared to the silence of last night.
Everyone was already there, talking over each other while breakfast was being served. Meera sat beside me excitedly discussing wedding outfits while Kiasha —my cousin— kept stealing food from Vihaan bhai’s plate just to annoy him.
For the first time since yesterday…
I smiled genuinely.
Maybe this was what I needed.
Noise.
People.
Anything except being alone with my thoughts.
Vihaan bhai suddenly looked at me carefully.
“Tu theek hai na?”
[Are you okay?]
There was so much quiet concern in his voice that my heart softened instantly.
“Haan,” I replied lightly. “I’m okay now. Aur waise bhi, Meera ki shaadi aane wali hai. Panic attacks ke liye time nahi hai mere paas.”
[Yes, and anyway, Meera's weeding is coming up. I don't have time for panic attacks.]
Everyone laughed softly.
But Vihaan bhai didn’t.
“Jhoot bolte waqt tu aankhon mein nahi dekhti,” he said calmly.
[You don't look into my eyes while lying.]
I looked down at my plate immediately.
Damn him.
Meera quickly changed the topic before the atmosphere could turn emotional again.
“Okay enough sadness,” she declared dramatically. “Today is shopping day and nobody is ruining my mood.”
That instantly earned cheers from Kiasha.
And just like that…
the heaviness faded again.
At least for a while.
The city streets buzzed with life.
Music echoed from shops, lights flashed everywhere, and Meera practically dragged all of us from one store to another with unstoppable energy.
“This one!” she gasped, holding up another dress.
Rhea groaned dramatically. “If you buy one more lehenga, your wedding will need its own truck.”
I laughed softly while flipping through dresses nearby.
For a few hours…
everything actually felt normal.
We clicked pictures.
Argued over colors.
Shared street food while Meera nearly cried over ruining her diet.
And somewhere in between all the laughter, I caught myself forgetting last night.
Until—
that strange feeling returned again.
Suddenly.
Sharp enough to make me stop walking.
My smile faded slightly.
“Aaru?” Meera frowned. “Where did you disappear?”
I blinked quickly. “Nowhere. I’m here.”
But my chest still felt strange.
Like something was about to happen.
Author’s POV
At Rathore Industries.
Inside his cabin, Atharv sat focused on his laptop while Kabir updated him about the upcoming schedule.
Every movement about him was disciplined.
Every expression unreadable.
Then the cabin door burst open without warning.
Yash walked in first.
Vivaan followed behind him, already looking tired of whatever nonsense Yash was planning.
“Mummy ji ka order hai,” Yash announced dramatically while dropping onto the couch. “You’re coming shopping with us.”
[Mummy ji's order, you're coming shopping with us.]
Atharv didn’t even look up.
“No.”
Vivaan smirked. “That wasn’t a request.”
Atharv finally raised his eyes slowly.
“I have work.”
“And I have wedding pressure,” Yash replied instantly. “So suffer with me.”
Kabir quietly left the cabin at the perfect moment, knowing chaos was about to begin.
Atharv sighed faintly, already irritated.
“Shopping is torture.”
Vivaan nodded seriously. “True. But unfortunately family emotions are stronger than corporate authority.”
Yash grinned proudly. “Exactly.”
Thirty minutes later—
Atharv found himself standing inside a crowded mall questioning every life decision that had brought him there.
Yash and Vivaan argued over outfits nearby while Atharv stayed glued to his phone, replying to emails with complete disinterest in his surroundings.
“Bro,” Yash complained while holding two sherwanis, “why do wedding clothes look the same?”
“Because nobody cares about men’s fashion,” Vivaan replied wisely.
Atharv barely reacted.
Then his phone rang.
Kabir.
He stepped aside to answer the call—
and accidentally collided with someone.
A girl stumbled slightly in front of him.
Her face stayed hidden behind strands of hair, but before he could properly react—
she stepped back instantly.
Almost nervously.
“Sorry,” she murmured quickly before walking away into the crowd.
Atharv’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Something about that moment felt…
strange.
Familiar.
Then he noticed the bracelet around her wrist.
And suddenly—
his heartbeat paused for half a second.
Not because he recognized the girl.
But because that bracelet felt connected to a memory he hadn’t touched in years.
By the time he looked up again—
she was gone.
Later that evening, Rathore Mansion buzzed with wedding chaos, laughter, and endless conversations.
But Atharv barely heard any of it.
His mind kept replaying that moment in the mall.
That bracelet.
That strange familiarity.
That feeling he couldn't explain.
And somehow—
it irritated him more than it should have.
Hours later, standing alone in his room, Atharv finally pulled out the old photograph from his wallet again.
His eyes stayed fixed on it silently.
Then slowly…
his gaze shifted toward the bracelet visible in the picture wrapped around the little girl’s wrist.
The exact same bracelet.
For the first time in years—
Atharv Singh Rathore felt his heartbeat lose rhythm.
Aarohi’s POV
By the time I reached mumma’s place at night, exhaustion had already settled deep inside me.
And honestly…
I needed it.
For a while, things actually felt normal again.
No whispers.
No strange fear crawling under my skin.
Just family.
Just noise.
Just warmth.
I had barely fallen asleep when someone aggressively shook my shoulder.
“Aaru. Uth.”
[Aaru. wake up.]
I groaned, pulling the blanket over my face. “Agar duniya khatam nahi ho rahi toh mujhe sone do.”
[If the world is not ending, let me sleep]
“Maggie session is starting,” Vihaan bhai whispered dramatically.
One second later, I sat up instantly.
“Why didn’t you say that first?”
Kiasha gasped proudly. “See? True sibling behavior.”
Ten minutes later, the kitchen looked like a disaster zone.
Vihaan bhai was cutting vegetables with unnecessary confidence while Kiasha kept criticizing everything he did.
“Bhai, yeh carrot kaat rahe ho ya murder kar rahe ho?” she asked, horrified.
[Bhai, are you cutting carrot or committing murder?]
“Art takes time,” Vihaan bhai replied calmly.
“Yeh art nahi evidence lag raha hai.”
[This doesn't seem like art, it seem like evidence]
I nearly choked laughing.
Meanwhile, Vihaan bhai kept throwing ingredients into the pan like he was competing in a cooking show.
“Trust the process,” he announced.
“I absolutely do not trust this process,” I replied immediately.
Kiasha pointed at the pan suspiciously.
“Is Maggie ko khane ke baad hum zinda rahenge na?”
[Will we remain alive after eating this maggie?]
Vihaan bhai looked offended.
“Tum dono mere talent ko insult kar rhe ho.”
[You both are insulting my talent.]
“Talent?” I repeated. “Bhai, pichli baar aapne chai jalaa di thi.”
[Talent? Bhai, Last time, you ended up burning the tea.]
“That was experimental.”
“That was dangerous.”
The kitchen exploded into laughter again.
Today... my chest didn’t feel heavy.
I forgot fear existed.
We finally settled around the dining table with our bowls of Maggie, still laughing over absolutely nothing.
Exhaustion slowly took over after that.
Kiasha’s head dropped onto the table first.
Then mine.
Vihaan bhai sighed dramatically. “Amazing. Main hi akela responsible insaan hoon.”
[Amazing. I'm the only responsible person. ]
“Shut up…” I mumbled sleepily.
Kiasha was already half asleep beside me while Vihaan bhai continued eating Maggie like he had personally created a five-star recipe.
Slowly, the kitchen fell quiet.
No teasing.
No laughter.
Just exhaustion.
My eyes slowly started closing again.
And then—
“AHHHHHHH—”
And just like that…
a memory Atharv buried years ago found its way back to him.
But tell me something honestly—
do you believe some people are meant to return to your life no matter how much time passes?
Or are some memories simply too dangerous to forget?
Also…
who do you think was whispering Aarohi’s name?
Your theories make my day, so don’t disappear silently this time. 👀🖤
— your author, Elara
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