Amara opened her Eyes, and Ravi was dozing off on his chair, he was looking very calm..
Amara looked at ravi... and with Blank expression...
Ravi suddenly woke up.. and looked at Amara, both of them was looking to each other.
Morning light crept through the cracked windows of the old house. the wind was quiet for the moment. Amara and Ravi hadn't slept much.
The soft humming that had drifted from upstairs had faded with the night, but neither of them could forget it.
"Are you ready?" Ravi asked. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a warm scarf around his neck, his hair still damp from where he'd splashed his face with cold water. The fire was a low glow in the hearth.
Amara nodded. "Yes," she said, wrapping her shawl tighter. "Let's go before the weather changes again."
They stepped out into the chilly morning. Mist hung low over the fields. Dew sparkled on the grass. The sky was a pale blue, as if the storm had washed all the darkness away. They walked side by side down the lane toward the village.
For a while, they didn't speak. They listened to their footsteps crunch on the gravel and to the quiet sounds of early birds.
Then Ravi glanced at her.
"Do you feel better this morning?" he asked gently.
"A little," Amara replied. "I still think about the handwriting. And the letter we found. And the woman I saw in my dream." She looked up at him. "Thank you for staying with me last night. I would have been very frightened alone."
Ravi smiled, a soft expression that made his eyes warm. "I didn't want to leave you," he said. "It… felt important to stay."
His words warmed her in a different way. She noticed again how his eyes could shift from serious to kind, how his voice softened when he spoke to her. Her own heart beat a little faster, but not from fear this time.
Halfway to the village, they reached a small stream. A stone bridge crossed it. Ravi stopped and leaned on the old stone wall, looking down at the water. It rushed and burbled over rocks.
"When I was a boy," he said, "I used to play here. I'd float leaves and pretend they were boats. Sometimes, I'd sit here for hours and think about leaving this place."
"Did you always want to leave?" Amara asked, standing beside him.
"I thought I did," he said. "But now that I'm back, I see why I loved it. There's a peace here, even with… everything." He looked at her. "What about you? Why did you leave the city?"
Amara looked at the water. Her reflection was faint and wavy. She told him, in simple words, about losing her fiancé. "His name was Ved," she said.
"He died in an accident on a rainy night, not far from our home. After that, the city felt full of his absence. Every corner reminded me of him. I needed to breathe somewhere else."
Ravi looked at Amara with Sad Expression...
he listened carefully to her, his brow furrowing with empathy.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can't imagine that pain. But I'm glad you came here." He paused and added, almost in a whisper, "I'm glad I met you."
Their eyes met. For a second, the morning seemed warmer. Amara's lips curved into a small smile. She felt something like hope stir inside her. She was surprised by it, but she didn't push it away.
They walked on until they reached the cluster of small houses that made up the village. Chickens pecked at the dirt, and smoke rose from chimneys.
Ravi led Amara to a low, mud-brick house with a thatched roof. An old woman sat on a wooden stool outside, shelling peas into a bowl.
"Nanda Ma," Ravi called gently. "It's me, Ravi.
Ravi Touched her feet and Said, I have someone you should meet."
The old woman looked up. Her skin was wrinkled like dry leaves, and her hair was white and thin, tied back in a bun.
She smiled when she saw Ravi. "Ah, Ravi beta," she said in a voice like rustling paper. "Where have you been hiding? Come, come." Her eyes flicked to Amara, curious but kind.
"This is Amara," Ravi said. "She's staying at the old estate. She needs to know about its history."
Nanda's smile faded a little at the mention of the estate. She motioned for them to sit on the bench beside her. "So the house is not empty anymore," she said, looking at Amara with sharp eyes. "And the wind has begun to talk again. I can feel it."
Amara's heart skipped. "You believe it talks?"
Nanda nodded slowly. "That house holds many stories. The walls are thick with them. Some are sad, some angry, and some… still waiting." She sighed. "Long ago, before I was born, a young woman named Asha lived there.
Nanda Maa's eye was sadden, She continued the Story.
She fell in love with a man her family did not choose. They say he was a teacher, poor but kind. Her father forbade the match. But Asha and her lover exchanged letters, hidden in desks and under stones. They planned to run away."
"What happened to them?" Amara asked, leaning forward.
Nanda's eyes grew distant. "On the night they were to meet, a storm like the one last night rolled in. The wind was wild. They say Asha waited by the front door, but the carriage her family sent to retrieve her took her away before the man arrived. He waited in the rain for hours, then disappeared into the night.
Some say he died of a broken heart. Others say he was struck by lightning. Asha was married off to another, but she never stopped listening for her lover's footsteps." Nanda's voice lowered. "They say her spirit never left the house. She still waits. And sometimes, the wind carries her voice, calling for help, calling her love."
Amara felt goosebumps rise on her arms. She thought of the handwriting on the wall, of the woman in her dream. "Do you think she is the one whispering to me?" she asked.
Nanda looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe," she said. "Or maybe you remind the house of her. Houses remember patterns. You have come there with a heart full of love and loss, just as she did. The house might be speaking to you because it knows you understand."
Ravi squeezed Amara's shoulder gently. She looked at him and felt a warmth spread through her. Even in this talk of ghosts, she felt less alone.
"Is there a way to help Asha's spirit?" Ravi asked.
Nanda shrugged. "You must listen. The house will show you. Read her letters. Find out what happened to her lover. Maybe the story can be closed." She placed a hand on Amara's arm.
"Be careful. The wind is kind to some and cruel to others."
They thanked her and walked back toward the estate, The sky was turning gray again. A soft thunder rolled in the distance. When they reached the mansion, it felt heavy and quiet.
"Are you sure you want to go in?" Ravi asked.