The next morning, Aarav returned home to find another envelope waiting. His pulse quickened.
This one was thicker. Inside, there were several sheets, carefully folded, filled with Riya's handwriting.
"Aarav," it began, "I know this is difficult to believe. I am a girl living in your city… ten years ago. Our lives are connected by something beyond comprehension. I cannot meet you in person yet, but I can guide you. You will find me if you follow the instructions."
Aarav frowned. "Instructions? For what?"
He read on:
"Go to the old bookstore near River Street at exactly 5:30 PM. There will be a blue notebook on the second shelf, third row. Open it. You will know what to do next."
Despite every rational thought screaming at him to ignore it, Aarav felt drawn to obey. There was a magnetic pull he couldn't resist.
By evening, he found himself standing in front of the quaint, dusty bookstore. The air smelled of aged paper and old wood. Heart pounding, he navigated the aisles, counting shelves meticulously. Third row… blue notebook.
He pulled it out. It was heavy, the leather cover soft and worn. Opening it revealed notes, sketches, and letters written by Riya, dated ten years ago. They described her life, her thoughts, and, strangely, his life too—things that only he knew.
"What… how…?" he whispered.
A chill ran down his spine. There was something profoundly intimate about these writings, as if someone had been living inside his mind for years.
Then, a folded paper slipped from the notebook. It read:
"If you want to meet me, you must trust the unseen. Come alone tomorrow at sunset, River Bridge. Bring nothing but your heart."
Aarav's pulse thundered. Was he dreaming? Or had fate decided to drag him into a story far bigger than himself?
He spent the night pondering every possibility, imagining a girl he had never met yet somehow felt he already knew.