Nobody spoke.
The message remained on my phone screen.
"He remembers you now."
And in the photograph…
The man with the silver ring stood behind the sofa.
Watching us.
My hands began to shake.
I looked toward the corner shown in the picture.
Nothing.
Empty.
But somehow, that was even more terrifying.
Because whoever he was—
He had been there.
And none of us had noticed.
Professor Dev's face turned pale.
"No…"
Sara immediately looked at him.
"Grandfather?"
The old man grabbed the table for support.
His breathing had become uneven.
"He found us."
Kabir frowned.
"Who?"
Professor Dev whispered only one name.
"Vikram."
The room fell silent.
Even Bruno stopped moving.
Meera looked confused.
"Who's Vikram?"
Professor Dev closed his eyes.
"The man who funded Project Echo."
"The man who turned memories into weapons."
"And the man who killed my granddaughter."
My chest tightened.
"Aisha?"
The old man's eyes became wet.
"Yes."
"He blamed her for betraying the project."
My fists clenched.
For the first time, anger replaced fear.
Real anger.
"Where is he?"
Professor Dev smiled bitterly.
"If we knew that, this nightmare would've ended years ago."
But my attention had shifted elsewhere.
Toward Sara.
Toward the photograph still lying on the table.
She noticed.
And smiled sadly.
"You don't have to force yourself."
"I know."
I looked at her.
"No."
"I want to understand."
For a moment, something broke inside her.
She quickly looked away.
As if she had waited years to hear those words.
"I was afraid you would hate me."
"Hate you?"
A small laugh escaped her lips.
"You forgot me once."
Her voice trembled.
"And then… after the accident…"
Tears gathered in her eyes.
"You forgot me again."
Silence.
Meera lowered her gaze.
Even Kabir stopped joking.
Because there was too much pain in Sara's voice.
Too much loneliness.
Two hours later, after Professor Dev had fallen asleep in Kabir's guest room, the rain outside had finally stopped.
Kabir was making coffee.
Bruno had curled up beside the couch.
Meera sat quietly near the window.
And Sara stood alone on the balcony.
Looking at the city lights.
Something about her expression felt familiar.
Not because I remembered her.
But because I had seen that loneliness before.
In Meera.
In myself.
I stepped outside.
She heard me, but didn't turn around.
"Can't sleep?" she asked.
"No."
"Me neither."
Cold wind moved her hair slightly.
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then she smiled weakly.
"You know…"
"You always hated silence."
I looked at her.
"And you know that because…?"
"Because we were friends."
Friends.
Not lovers.
Not strangers.
Friends.
Something about that answer relaxed me.
"I used to make terrible coffee," she continued.
"You used to complain about everything."
"And during exams…"
A genuine smile appeared on her face.
"You nearly cried because you got ninety-three instead of ninety-six."
I blinked.
"That happened?"
She laughed softly.
And suddenly—
Flash.
Library.
College campus.
Books everywhere.
Sara laughing.
Me throwing a pen at her.
"Stop making fun of me."
The memory disappeared.
But this time—
It didn't hurt.
I grabbed the balcony railing.
Sara noticed immediately.
"You remembered something?"
"Library."
Her eyes widened.
And suddenly—
She smiled.
Not sadly.
Not painfully.
Just happily.
"Second year."
She laughed.
"You slept on my notes."
"I what?"
"And drooled on them."
I stared at her.
Then—
For the first time since meeting her—
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
And strangely…
Hearing that laugh made Sara freeze.
Tears appeared in her eyes.
"What?"
She shook her head immediately.
"Nothing."
But I understood.
She had missed that laugh.
For three years.
Inside the apartment, Meera watched us from the window.
Kabir appeared beside her carrying two mugs.
"Jealous?"
Meera immediately glared at him.
"No."
Kabir smiled.
"That's a lie."
"I'm not jealous."
"You've been staring outside for five minutes."
"I'm worried."
Kabir raised an eyebrow.
"Sure."
Meera sighed.
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
She looked toward Sara.
"She waited three years too."
Kabir became quiet.
"And she looks lonely."
Meera smiled softly.
"I know how that feels."
Kabir looked at her carefully.
"You really are too kind."
Meera laughed.
"Or maybe I'm just stupid."
"No."
Kabir smiled.
"You and Arjun are perfect for each other."
"Both idiots."
Meera laughed again.
And for the first time in days—
The apartment felt peaceful.
Almost normal.
But peace never lasted long.
Because at exactly 3:17 AM—
Bruno suddenly started growling.
Low.
Dangerously.
His ears straightened.
And he ran toward the bookshelf.
Kabir frowned.
"Bruno?"
The dog barked wildly.
Then scratched at the wall behind the shelf.
Everyone woke up immediately.
"What happened?" Sara asked.
Professor Dev appeared from his room.
Meera looked nervous.
"What's wrong with him?"
But Bruno kept barking.
Kabir slowly moved the bookshelf aside.
And froze.
There was a door.
Hidden inside the wall.
A door that shouldn't exist.
Because Kabir had lived in this apartment for four years.
And he had never seen it before.
Attached to the handle—
Was a yellow scarf.
My heart stopped.
Meera's breathing became uneven.
And Professor Dev whispered in horror—
"No…"
Because embroidered onto the corner of the scarf—
Were two words.
"For Arjun."