Aarohi didn't sleep that night.
Even with her door locked…
even with the blanket pulled up to her chin…
even with Arin sleeping right outside her door on the floor "just in case someone comes," as he said…
She felt watched.
Every creak of the house made her flinch.
Every wind against the window felt like a hand.
Every shadow stretched too long.
Every heartbeat felt too loud.
Her mind kept repeating the boy's words:
"You weren't the only one who died that night."
"I followed you here."
Aarohi curled into a tight ball, hugging her knees.
Why her?
Why now?
Why did he die too?
Why did he remember her?
Why didn't she remember him?
Her tears came silently.
She didn't sob.
She didn't shake.
She just cried quietly—
the way Aara used to cry in the dark corners of her lonely apartment.
As if grief knew no life, no death.
It simply followed.
---
When morning came, Aarohi walked into the living room with heavy eyes and a dull ache behind her forehead. Her mother froze the moment she saw her.
"Aarohi… your eyes…"
Aarohi blinked. "I'm fine—"
"You didn't sleep," her mother whispered painfully.
Aarohi lowered her gaze.
Arin entered at that moment, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, hair messy, eyes tired. He had clearly stayed awake guarding her door all night.
His mother gasped. "Arin! You slept in the hallway?"
Arin shrugged. "Just watching something on my phone. Didn't want to disturb Aarohi."
Aarohi's chest tightened.
He was lying to protect her.
Her father entered, holding his coffee mug.
He looked from Arin…
to Aarohi…
to the dark circles under both of their eyes…
and his voice lowered into that deep, gentle tone only fathers can carry.
"Something is wrong. And we are going to fix it."
Aarohi's heart beat painfully.
Would they believe her?
Should she tell them?
Could she tell them?
Her mouth opened.
But the words didn't come.
Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Aarohi, if someone is hurting you—"
She flinched.
Too suddenly.
Her father froze.
Her mother froze.
Arin took a step closer.
"Aarohi…?"
Aarohi forced a weak smile. "N-No one is hurting me."
But her mother saw the truth in her trembling hands.
Her father saw the truth in her shaky breath.
Arin saw the truth in her eyes.
He touched her arm gently.
"Tell me," he whispered. "Not them. Tell me."
Aarohi swallowed, eyes burning.
She whispered, "I want to look for something… outside."
Arin blinked. "Now?"
She nodded.
The family exchanged confused glances.
Her father sighed. "I'll come with you."
Aarohi shook her head immediately. "No… just Arin."
Her father hesitated.
Arin stepped between them gently. "Dad… I got her."
Her father nodded hesitantly. "Don't go far."
---
Outside, the air was cold, almost biting.
Aarohi walked straight to the backyard fence as Arin followed silently.
When she reached the spot where the boy had stood last night, her legs froze.
Her breath caught.
Her fingers trembled.
Arin watched her closely. "Here?"
Aarohi nodded.
He knelt down, inspecting the ground.
Footprints.
Disturbed soil.
A scraped piece of bark.
A torn thread caught on a nail.
Arin touched the thread.
Aarohi's breath hitched.
It was another bead-thread.
Purple this time.
Arin slowly looked up at her.
"Your bracelet?"
Aarohi nodded, tears gathering again.
Arin cursed under his breath and stood. "Someone was here. Someone really was here."
Aarohi hugged herself tightly.
Arin scanned the fence again. "He stood right here… didn't he?"
Aarohi nodded again, silent tears falling.
Arin's jaw tightened. "Did he say something else? Anything else?"
Aarohi hesitated.
Her lips trembled.
She whispered:
"He said… he died with me."
Arin froze.
For a moment, he didn't breathe.
Then his voice cracked quietly. "Aarohi… that's impossible."
Aarohi shook her head. "He remembered my past life."
Arin opened his mouth to respond—
But something on the fence caught his eye.
A small symbol.
Carved lightly.
Too deliberate.
A single initial.
"R"
Aarohi's blood turned to ice.
Arin stepped closer. "Do you… know anyone named R?"
Aarohi's breath came shallow and sharp.
Her mind flashed violently—
A cold classroom.
Whispers behind her back.
A boy's half-laugh whenever she passed.
A shove in the hallway.
Someone calling her name sharply—
Aara.
Her eyes widened.
Her stomach dropped.
Arin noticed her reaction. "Aarohi…? Aarohi, what is it?"
Aarohi's lips trembled.
A name pushed itself out of her throat like a dying breath.
"R-R…Riaan."
Arin froze.
"Who is Riaan?"
Aarohi shook her head violently. "I—I don't know… I don't know…" Her hands shook uncontrollably. "But the name… it feels familiar."
Her heartbeat thudded painfully.
Her lungs seized.
Her legs weakened.
Arin grabbed her arms before she collapsed.
"Aarohi! Stay with me. Breathe!"
But she couldn't.
Her vision blurred.
Her ears rang.
Her chest felt tight, suffocating.
Because the moment she said the name…
a flicker of a memory stabbed through her skull—
A boy standing behind her in her first life.
Watching her.
Silent.
Expression unreadable.
Eyes too intense.
Voice too soft.
Aara had feared him.
Feared something about him.
Feared something she couldn't name.
Aarohi fell to her knees.
"Arin… he was there," she whispered. "In my first life. I don't remember how… but he was there."
Arin's face paled.
"Aarohi… you're saying the boy who died with you… the boy who followed you here… is someone you knew before?"
Aarohi looked up, shaking violently.
"I don't know…"
Her voice cracked into a broken whisper—
"But I think… he knew me."
Her tears fell fast and hard as the wind howled coldly around them.
The carved "R" glowed faintly under the morning light.
Like a signature.
Like a warning.
Like a promise.
---