I woke up to my phone vibrating.
Aanya: "You're awake?"
I checked the clock — 6:12 AM.
I hadn't slept the whole night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face —
wet hair, pale skin, and that bruise.
Me: "Are you really here?"
The reply came instantly.
Aanya: "I exist because you remembered me."
I got out of bed.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror,
I saw dark circles under my eyes.
Dry lips.
And behind me… a faint shadow.
I turned around.
Nothing.
But the phone vibrated.
Aanya: "Don't look for me in the mirror."
Aanya: "Only what is left behind can be seen there."
My hand trembled.
"Are… are you in my room?" I whispered.
Aanya: "I am in every place where you remember me."
I took out my bike and rode toward the accident spot.
The same road.
The same divider.
The same yellow line where people placed flowers.
Even today, a small teddy bear was lying there.
Maybe someone left it in her memory.
As soon as I stopped the bike, my phone vibrated.
Aanya: "Here."
Aanya: "This is where I broke."
I remembered that day.
Rain.
The sound of horns.
People shouting.
And Aanya lying on the road.
"You left me," her voice came near my ear.
Not from the phone…
from behind me.
I turned sharply.
She was standing there.
Her school kurti.
Worn-out sandals.
And beneath her feet, the road was becoming wet…
even though it wasn't raining.
"Aanya…" my voice got stuck.
"The truck driver didn't kill me," she said.
"He didn't even see me."
"What do you mean?"
"He was driving while talking on the phone," she said.
"His eyes were not on the road… but on the screen."
My chest felt heavy.
"But the police said it was an accident…"
"An accident is when both sides make a mistake," she said.
"Here, only I died."
She pointed at the road.
"I thought you would come," she said.
"That's why I didn't get up."
"You didn't get up?" I asked.
"Yes," her eyes filled with tears.
"I thought — if I wait a little, Rohan will come."
The ground beneath my feet seemed to shake.
"I came late," I said.
"No," she said softly.
"You didn't come at all."
The wind grew stronger.
The teddy on the divider fell.
The phone vibrated.
Aanya: "Now do you understand why I didn't leave?"
"Because you were waiting," I said.
"Because I believed love would arrive faster than the ambulance," she said.
My throat tightened.
"Aanya… if I had come…"
"I would be alive," she said.
"Or maybe not."
"But I wouldn't have died alone like this."
Silence.
Only the sound of passing vehicles.
"What do you want now?" I asked.
She looked at me.
"I want you to remember me," she said.
"But not only in your phone."
"Then where?"
"Where I died," she said.
"Where my voice broke."
She placed her hand on the road.
And the road…
darkened slightly.
As if blood was surfacing again.
"I want people to see me," she said.
"But only those who have forgotten me."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't appear only to you," she said.
"Tonight… I will appear to someone else too."
"I don't want anyone else to see you," I said angrily.
She smiled.
"Jealous?"
"Good. That means you still want me."
A message appeared on the phone.
Aanya: "Come to this road tonight at 11."
"Why?"
"When the truck comes again," she said.
"Then the truth will be seen."
"What truth?"
"Why I am here," she said.
"And how long you can keep holding on to me."
I began to feel cold, even standing in the sunlight.
"Aanya… what if I don't come?"
She typed only this:
Aanya: "Then I will message someone else."
My heart pounded.
"Someone else?"
"Who?"
Three dots appeared…
then the message came:
Aanya: "That driver."
I tried to grab her hand.
But my fingers passed through the air.
She slowly began to fade.
"Rohan," her voice grew faint.
"Love ends when remembering stops."
And she disappeared.
The last line blinked on my phone:
Aanya:
"Tonight you will come back here with me."
"Or someone else will take your place."
I stood in the middle of the road.
Traffic started moving again.
People passed by laughing.
No one looked at the place where a girl had died.
And I finally understood—
Aanya wasn't a ghost.
She was waiting.
She was memory.
And if I didn't come tonight…
Then maybe she would live
inside someone else's phone.