Nobody moved.
The yellow scarf hung quietly from the handle of the hidden door, swaying slightly as if an invisible hand had just placed it there.
My breathing became shallow.
Meera's eyes widened.
And Professor Dev…
Professor Dev looked terrified.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
"No…" he whispered.
His voice trembled.
"That's impossible."
Kabir slowly turned toward him.
"What do you mean impossible?"
The old man swallowed hard.
"Because…"
His eyes remained fixed on the scarf.
"That belonged to Aisha."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even Bruno stopped barking.
The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wall clock.
Three seventeen in the morning.
Kabir stared at the hidden door.
"I've lived here for four years."
"How is this possible?"
Nobody had an answer.
Because the door itself looked old.
Very old.
Not recently built.
Not hidden yesterday.
It looked like it had been there for decades.
As if someone had simply erased its existence from memory.
The thought made my blood run cold.
Professor Dev slowly approached.
His hand trembled as he touched the yellow scarf.
Tears immediately filled his eyes.
"This…"
He smiled painfully.
"This was her favorite."
Meera stepped closer.
"She wore it at the station."
Professor Dev looked at her.
"You remember?"
Meera nodded.
"Fragments."
The old man's eyes became moist.
"Then perhaps…"
He looked at me.
"Perhaps she's finally bringing all of you back together."
Kabir raised an eyebrow.
"Great."
"Because nothing says healthy friendship like mysterious dead people and secret rooms."
Sara almost laughed.
Almost.
Slowly, Kabir grabbed the handle.
"I'm opening it."
"No."
Professor Dev stopped him immediately.
Everyone looked toward him.
His expression had changed.
"There are some memories better left buried."
I frowned.
"You know what's inside."
The old man remained silent.
Too silent.
And that silence itself became the answer.
"You do," I said quietly.
Professor Dev closed his eyes.
"Yes."
Meera looked shocked.
"Then why didn't you tell us?"
"Because Aisha made me promise."
"What promise?"
His voice broke.
"That if the time ever came…"
"...Arjun should be the one to open it."
All eyes turned toward me.
And suddenly—
My headache returned.
Not painful.
Not violent.
Just…
Heavy.
A strange feeling of familiarity.
As if I had stood in front of this door before.
Years ago.
Without understanding why—
I stepped forward.
The yellow scarf brushed against my fingers.
And instantly—
Flash.
Rain.
Aisha smiling.
Her eyes red from crying.
She tied the scarf around the handle herself.
And whispered:
"When you're ready…"
"...come find me."
The memory vanished.
My entire body froze.
Meera immediately noticed.
"You remembered something."
I nodded slowly.
"She did this."
Professor Dev's eyes widened.
"You saw her?"
I looked at the scarf.
"She was crying."
Tears rolled down the old man's face.
"That sounds like my granddaughter."
Kabir sighed dramatically.
"Well."
"Ghost granddaughter wants us inside."
"So let's go."
Despite everything, Sara laughed softly.
And somehow…
Hearing laughter in the middle of this madness made everything feel strangely human.
Kabir opened the door.
The smell hit us immediately.
Dust.
Old paper.
And something else.
Coffee.
Fresh coffee.
Everyone froze.
Impossible.
Because nobody had entered.
Nobody.
Yet the smell was fresh.
As if someone had been there recently.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Bruno whimpered softly.
For the first time all night—
The dog seemed afraid.
Kabir swallowed.
"I officially hate this."
Sara smiled weakly.
"No you don't."
"You love mysteries."
"I love Netflix mysteries."
"Not death mysteries."
Meera laughed quietly.
And somehow—
That laugh calmed me.
She stood beside me.
Without saying anything.
Just there.
Like always.
And I realized something.
Even now…
Even after everything…
Her presence felt like home.
One by one, we descended.
The lights downstairs shouldn't have worked.
But they did.
Soft yellow lights.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Nothing like Room 309.
Nothing like an abandoned laboratory.
This place looked…
Lived in.
Bookshelves.
Plants.
A sofa.
Paintings.
Photographs.
Coffee mugs.
A piano.
And hundreds of paper cranes hanging from the ceiling.
Nobody spoke.
Because this wasn't a secret laboratory.
It was someone's home.
Someone's sanctuary.
Sara covered her mouth.
Professor Dev broke down completely.
"No…"
Tears streamed down his face.
"No…"
My pulse became uneven.
Because standing near the piano—
Framed beautifully—
Was a photograph.
Three people smiling.
Me.
Meera.
And Aisha.
All three laughing.
Happy.
Alive.
And written beneath it in handwriting I recognized immediately—
"No matter what happens, we'll find each other again."
Signed—
Aisha.
Meera started crying.
Professor Dev sat down silently.
And Kabir—
For once in his life—
Had no joke.
Then Sara whispered:
"This place…"
Her voice shook.
"It looks exactly like her drawings."
Everyone turned toward her.
"What drawings?" I asked.
Sara looked confused.
"She showed me."
"Years ago."
"She used to sketch a place where all of us would be happy."
My heart skipped.
"All of us?"
Sara nodded.
"You."
"Me."
"Meera."
"Kabir."
"And herself."
Silence.
But before anyone could process those words—
A voice echoed softly from somewhere deeper inside the room.
A woman's voice.
Gentle.
Familiar.
And heartbreakingly impossible.
"Welcome back."
Everyone froze.
Meera's eyes widened.
Professor Dev stood up abruptly.
Kabir's coffee mug slipped from his hand.
Because there—
At the end of the hallway—
An old cassette player had suddenly turned on by itself.
And through the static—
Aisha's voice spoke again.
But this time—
She sounded scared.
Very scared.
And her next words made my blood freeze.
"If you're hearing this…"
"...then I wasn't the one who died."