Aarohi couldn't hear anything.
Not Arin's worried voice calling her name.
Not her mother in the kitchen.
Not the ticking of the wall clock.
All she heard was the sentence echoing inside her like a broken prayer—
"I remember more than you think, Aara."
Her hands shook violently as she held the note.
She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Like someone had trapped her inside her own body.
Like her past was choking her from the inside.
Arin gently took the paper from her trembling fingers.
As his eyes read the line, his face went pale.
"Aarohi…" he whispered, voice trembling with anger and fear. "He's playing with you."
Aarohi squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palms to her ears. "I don't want this… I don't want any of this…"
Arin pulled her into his arms again.
"Hey… I'm here. I'm here, Aarohi. Look at me."
But she couldn't look.
Because whenever she closed her eyes—
she saw him.
Not clearly…
not fully…
but like a shadow standing between memories that didn't belong to this life.
A tall figure.
Dark hair.
Eyes she couldn't remember but felt.
A laugh she never heard but recognized.
A presence that made her skin crawl.
Aarohi forced her eyes open, gasping.
Arin cupped her face. "Breathe. You have to breathe."
"I'm trying," she whispered, voice cracking.
Her chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it.
Arin helped her to sit on the bed, rubbing her back.
"Aarohi, listen to me… you're safe. Nobody's going to hurt you."
She shook her head violently.
"No… no, Arin, you didn't see him."
Arin clenched his jaw. "What did he look like? Tell me everything."
But she couldn't.
Every time she tried to form an image, her mind blurred.
Every time she tried to remember his face, something inside her pushed back.
A headache throbbed behind her eyes.
"I can't… I can't remember him clearly…" she whispered painfully. "But I feel him. I feel like I knew him. I feel like… like he was there in my first life."
Arin's brows drew together. "Was he someone who hurt you?"
Aarohi's breath hitched.
"I don't know."
She hugged herself tightly.
"I don't know if he was kind or cruel… if he watched me from afar or stood beside me… if he was a stranger or…" her voice faltered, "someone who… saw me break."
A shiver went down her spine.
What if he knew her darkest moments?
Her tears?
Her loneliness?
Her humiliations?
Her breakdowns?
What if he watched from the shadows?
What if he knew everything?
Her stomach twisted with nausea.
Arin stood and began pacing the room.
"We need to tell Mom and Dad," he said sharply. "This isn't normal. Someone is stalking you—"
"No!" Aarohi cried, her voice louder than intended.
Arin froze.
"I don't want them to know," she said, voice trembling. "They'll be scared. They'll panic. They'll think I'm… broken."
Arin's heart shattered at the word.
He knelt beside her again.
"You're not broken," he said fiercely. "You're scared. There's a difference."
She looked down at her trembling hands.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I don't want to lose them… I don't want my fear to ruin this family. I don't want to be the reason everyone is hurting."
Arin cupped her hands gently.
"You're not the reason for anything. He is."
Aarohi's breath shook.
Arin continued softly, "But if you want me to keep this between us… I will. I'll protect you. I swear."
Aarohi nodded weakly, eyes watery.
"Thank you…"
Arin forced a smile. "Always."
---
Later, when Arin left the room briefly to get water, Aarohi sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the window.
The curtains fluttered softly.
The moon was hidden behind clouds.
And the world outside looked too quiet.
Too still.
She stared at her reflection in the glass.
Aarohi…
Aara…
One soul, two lives.
The reflection stared back, eyes wide with fear.
She leaned closer.
And for a moment—
just a single moment—
she wasn't looking at herself.
She was looking at someone standing behind her.
A boy.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Hood up.
Face blurred.
But presence unmistakable.
Aarohi gasped and stumbled backward, hitting the side table.
The reflection vanished.
Her heartbeat thundered.
Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts.
"No… no… no…"
She clutched her chest, shaking her head violently.
Her door flew open.
"Aarohi?!" Arin rushed inside, grabbing her shoulders. "What happened?"
She pointed at the window with a trembling finger.
"I saw him… I saw him behind me in the glass…"
Arin snapped his head toward the window.
It was empty.
Arin cursed under his breath.
"Aarohi," he whispered, holding her close, "you're not imagining this. I believe you. I believe everything."
She sobbed against his shoulder.
"I'm scared, Arin… I'm so scared…"
He stroked her hair gently.
"I know… I know… I won't let anything happen to you."
Aarohi cried harder.
She didn't trust the world.
She didn't trust her memories.
She didn't trust the shadows.
But she trusted Arin.
More than she trusted anyone in both her lives.
And that terrified her too.
---
When Arin finally managed to calm her and stepped outside to tell her father she wasn't feeling well, Aarohi sat alone in the quiet room.
Moonlight spilled across the floor.
Her tears dried on her cheeks.
Her hands were cold.
And then—
a whisper brushed her ears.
Soft.
Close.
Dangerous.
"I remember everything, Aara."
Aarohi's eyes widened in terror.
The voice was inside the room.
Inside her head.
Inside her bones.
She wasn't imagining him.
He wasn't a dream.
He wasn't a fear.
He was here.
And he remembered her.
---