Aarohi didn't move from the window for a long time.
Even after the shadow disappeared behind the trees, she stood there with her palm pressed against the cold glass, as if her hand could reach through it…
as if she could stop him from leaving again.
Her breath fogged the window.
Her heart felt like it was cracking open.
Her legs trembled as if she had run a marathon.
Arin gently pulled her back.
"Aarohi… come away from the window."
She shook her head.
"He was here," she whispered. "He was right there…"
Arin's jaw tightened.
His fingers dug into her arm—not to hurt her, but to anchor her.
"I saw him," he said. "I know. But you can't keep watching. You're going to break yourself."
Aarohi pulled her arm back gently, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Arin… every time he comes closer… I remember something."
Her voice quivered.
"And every time he disappears… it feels like he's taking a part of me with him."
Arin stared at her.
A look flashed across his eyes—fear mixed with jealousy mixed with protectiveness.
He guided her back to the bed, sitting her down.
"Aarohi… you're shaking."
"I'm scared," she admitted.
Of him.
Of herself.
Of the truth.
Arin sat right in front of her, knees touching hers.
"Tell me what you remembered just now."
Aarohi closed her eyes.
Her breath hitched.
"I saw rain again," she whispered. "But… this time… there was a face."
Arin's eyes widened. "A face? Whose?"
Aarohi shook her head. "I don't know. It wasn't clear. Like looking through broken glass. But there were eyes…"
Her voice softened into a tremble.
"Dark eyes. Watching me. Hurting. Waiting."
Arin swallowed hard. "Was he older? Younger? Was he angry?"
Aarohi pressed a hand to her chest.
"No… not angry. Sad. So sad."
A tear fell.
"And… familiar."
Arin's throat tightened.
He hated how she said that word.
"Familiar."
Like she had belonged to someone before this family.
"Aarohi," he said quietly, "do you think he cared about you?"
Her breath caught.
Her fingers curled around the bedsheet.
"I don't know…"
But she felt it.
The sadness in his eyes wasn't the sadness of a stranger.
It was someone who had known her.
Someone who had lost something.
Someone who couldn't let go even after death.
Arin leaned closer.
"Then what do you feel?"
Aarohi hesitated.
Her voice broke.
"I feel like… like I abandoned him."
Arin grabbed her hands immediately.
"Aarohi. No. You didn't abandon anyone. You didn't choose to die. You didn't choose anything that happened."
But she wasn't listening.
Her guilt drowned his words.
She whispered—
"I think he died because he was trying to reach me. Or save me. Or stay with me. And I…"
Her voice cracked painfully.
"I think I let go."
A sob escaped her.
Arin pulled her into his arms.
She cried into his chest until her fingers went numb.
---
That evening, the sky turned even darker.
Clouds gathered heavily, thunder rumbling at a distance.
A storm was coming.
Aarohi sat wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, staring blankly at the turned-off TV.
Her parents cooked dinner in the kitchen, whispering worriedly.
Arin sat beside her, refusing to leave her side even for a minute.
When the first bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, Aarohi flinched violently.
"Aarohi," Arin whispered, "it's just rain."
But it wasn't.
Not to her.
Rain was memory.
Rain was death.
Rain was the sound of her last breath.
Rain was the night she collapsed, breaking alone.
Rain was the boy's final whisper.
She curled into herself, hugging her knees.
"I don't want to remember," she whispered.
"I don't want to go back."
Arin's heart twisted painfully.
"You won't," he said firmly. "You're not alone this time."
But the moment lightning struck again…
a sharp pain stabbed through her head.
She gasped and clutched her temples.
"Aara—"
A soft voice echoed in her skull.
"Aara—don't fall—"
The room spun.
A flash—
A hand grabbing her wrist.
A boy's silhouette.
Rain pounding down his face.
His voice shaking.
His fingers slipping from hers.
Her breath weakening.
Their knees hitting the ground.
Darkness swallowing both of them.
Aarohi screamed.
Arin caught her before she fell off the couch.
"Aarohi! Aarohi, breathe! Look at me!"
Her breath tore in and out.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
"He held my hand," she whispered.
"He tried to hold me. He didn't want me to leave. He didn't want me to die."
Arin held her face between his palms.
"Aarohi—listen—"
But she kept talking, voice trembling uncontrollably.
"He was trying to save me, Arin… and I let go. I let go of him."
Another sob ripped from her.
Arin pulled her into him, crushing her against his chest.
"You didn't let go," he whispered fiercely. "You couldn't hold on. You were dying. It wasn't your—"
A window slammed open upstairs.
Both of them jerked.
Arin froze.
Aarohi felt the cold rush of air down her spine.
Then—
A soft sound drifted through the house.
A hum.
Barely audible.
Barely human.
Like someone breathing in the walls.
Aarohi grabbed Arin's arm, eyes wide.
"It's him."
Thunder cracked outside.
Rain poured down harder.
And the soft humming stopped.
Replaced by a single whisper that slid through her chest like a cold blade—
"Aara… why did you leave me?"
Aarohi collapsed into Arin's arms, sobbing helplessly.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered into the air, voice breaking apart.
"I didn't mean to leave you. I didn't know… I didn't know…"
Arin held her tighter than ever.
But the storm outside wasn't half as violent as the storm forming inside Aarohi's soul.
Because each memory brought her closer to one truth:
The boy wasn't going to stop.
Not until she remembered everything.
---