The silver locket felt warm in Amara's palm, as though it had been resting on living skin.She and Ravi stood under the shadow of the banyan tree, the earth still smelling of smoke and damp rot. The black cat wound itself around Amara's ankles, tail curling like a question mark.
"Let's get back to the house," Ravi said, his voice low. "Whatever that thing is, it won't stop if we linger here."
They hurried down the slope, boots slipping on wet leaves. Behind them, the hole under the tree gaped like a dark mouth. The banyan branches swayed without wind, as if waving them away… or calling them back.
Inside the house, the storm shutters rattled. The fire in the kitchen had burned to embers, but the smell of jasmine was strong again—too strong, as though someone had just walked past.
Amara sat at the table and unclasped the locket. It clicked open with surprising ease.
Inside was a tiny folded piece of paper, yellowed and delicate.Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
The writing was Asha's.
"If you find this, you are like me. Do not trust the voices under the earth.Find the red door. Behind it is the truth."
"The red door?" Ravi repeated. "There's no red door in the house."
"There might be," Amara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's hidden. Painted over. Or… maybe it's somewhere we haven't dared to go."
The wind outside gave a sudden howl. Wooooooshhh… Doors upstairs banged one after the other, like someone running from room to room.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The black cat hissed and ran toward the hall, fur standing on end.
Ravi grabbed the lantern and nodded to Amara. "We follow it."
They moved through the dim corridors, their shadows stretching on the walls. The cat darted up the grand staircase, pausing to look back at them before vanishing into the east wing.
That part of the house had always felt colder, as though the sun had forgotten it. The wallpaper peeled in long strips. Every step made the boards groan.
At the far end of the hallway, the cat sat in front of a door.It was painted brown—but a crack in the peeling paint revealed a line of dark red beneath.
"The red door," Amara breathed.
She reached for the knob, but the moment her hand touched it, the wind inside the house rose like a scream. The floor seemed to tremble.
A whisper came from the other side: "Help me."
It was Asha's voice. Amara knew it instantly.
Ravi's hand came to her shoulder. "If we open this… we can't undo it."
She looked at him. His face was lit by the weak lantern glow, shadows cutting across his strong jaw, his grey eyes watching her with both worry and something warmer.
"I'm not leaving her," Amara said firmly. "And you're not leaving me."
He gave a small, almost pained smile. "Never."
Together, they turned the knob.
The door creaked open to reveal a narrow, steep staircase going down into blackness. A cold breath of air rushed past them, smelling of earth and something faintly metallic—blood, maybe.
The lantern flickered. The cat bolted inside.
"Guess we're following," Ravi murmured, but his grip tightened on her hand.
Step by step, they descended. The wooden steps turned to stone, damp under their boots. The air grew heavier, and faintly, from deep below, they heard it:
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
The stairs ended in a small chamber. The walls were made of rough rock, and at the center stood an old wooden table. On it lay another diary—smaller, darker, and locked shut with a rusted clasp.
Amara stepped forward, but before she could touch it, something moved in the shadows at the far wall.
Two pale hands pressed through the earth, followed by a head, the eyes gleaming gold in the lantern light.
It was the same figure from the banyan pit.
"You found her door," it hissed. "Now she will find you."
The scratching grew louder. All around the walls, fingers began pushing out of the soil. Not one pair—dozens.
Hands.Reaching.
"Back!" Ravi pulled her behind him, but the hands were already clawing at the stone floor, dragging bodies up from the earth. Their mouths opened in silent screams, eyes empty, skin grey.
The cat leapt onto the table, knocking the diary to the floor. The clasp snapped open, and a single page fluttered free.
Amara snatched it and read the first line:
"Only love can seal the earth again."
The lantern flame flared bright, and in that light, every face around them turned toward Amara.Some were twisted with hate. Others looked… almost pleading.
Ravi's voice was urgent. "We have to go—now!"
But as he pulled her toward the stairs, a cold hand closed around her wrist.Its touch was like ice, but inside her chest, her heart hammered hot and fast.
The thing leaning close to her ear whispered one word:
"Stay."