Telling a story was not always tough. But when the story is your own, your memories, your mistakes, your heartbreaks, it just hits different.

It's not just about narrating a sequence of events; it's about reliving it.

Every time you open your mouth to talk about what truly happened, you don't just remember the scene; you remember the tears, the lump in your throat, the exact fear in your chest, the tightness in your stomach. 

You remember who you were at that very moment.

The helplessness, the confusion, and most importantly, the guilt. The words might be simple, but the emotions behind them weren't. It felt like reopening wounds that had barely healed.

Now, talking about the happy moments was easier. At least easier to laugh about, even if they're bittersweet. But the dark ones, the messy ones, the ones that were buried deep, hoping never to resurface, those are the ones that make you choke.

"I am not sure where to start..." I began, trying to find the point that might be a suitable prologue. 

"From the very beginning," Uma dida encouraged sitting down on the floor and placing the candle in the front. 

While the others slowly sat down in different spots, Shreetama di and Ritoshree di beside Uma dida, Tuhin by the door, Kunal and Saikat da right in the middle alongside Mou. I, however, remain standing, leaning on the balcony door, glancing between the storm outside and the storm inside. 

"It had been a quarter of ayear since I moved from Delhi to Kolkata to establish the new wing of ourfamily business." I sighed. 

Talking about pain, especially your own, wasn't just about vulnerability; it was about survival. Because every word you speak tears something inside you and brings it out in the open again. It was like letting people watch you bleed, hoping they'll understand where the scars came from.

And that's beyond tough. That needed courage.

That's what I did, gathered all my courage and told Uma dida everything from the moment I had set foot in Kolkata. I told her about the night under the bridge and how Shumi's nightmares had started. I also told her about the incident in the graveyard and what had transpired between us this morning.

Needless to say, the others had looked away, and neither could I meet their eyes. Sharing something so private, so intimate, was tough on me as well, but right now, Shumi mattered and nothing else.

I also told her about how Shumi got injured from the first with the juda stick, and before that with the mirror. Her behaviour changed whenever she was inside my brother's room.

Uma dida nodded slowly, as if she had suspected something and knew a lot of things from before. However, she didn't disclose much. 

"The spirit clung to her through the blood," she said. "It saw her... recognised something. From the timeline of the incidents, I can surely conclude that whatever it is, it has been dwelling here silently."

"Here?" I frowned. "You mean my apartment was haunted?" 

"No, Ved, it is not the apartment," Shreetama di spoke, almost in a whisper. Though staring at the candle, she seemed zoned out. 

"When someone leaves, violently, suddenly, or with too much unfinished... a part of them lingers behind. Those souls don't always pass quietly. It's not always the spirit that stays... sometimes it's the echo. The blank, void echo." Shreetama di's voice trembled. "The things they once touched, the rooms they breathed in, the clothes they wore — they all remember." 

She looked so low and distant, but still spoke, and we didn't interrupt. "As humans, when we lose someone, we cling to their belongings, hoping to feel them again. Not always the end, but even during a break, from a distance, we try to feel."

She wasn't really talking to us, but continued. "A shirt still smelling faintly of their perfume, an old letter, a cracked photograph —" then, as if suddenly she became aware of her surroundings, she took a breath, lowering her eyes to her fingers clutching the end of her kurta. 

"All those become vessels of memory. We keep them close, thinking we are holding on to them, but it's the other way around. They hold on to us, through those very things, not letting us go, keeping the connection alive."

Ritoshree di gently rubbed her shoulders, and though I tried to study hard but I couldn't understand the blank expression on Shreetama di's face. She seemed so elusive.

"Whatever happened here before," Uma dida spoke in a firmer voice, "left a footprint that never faded. The spirit might have gone... but the walls remember, Ved. They absorb everything — laughter, fear, death, desire. Every object, every inch of this place, has soaked in what it witnessed. All that stays wrapped around its old belongings like a scent that refuses to leave."

I felt a strange chill and also empty, because a doubt, a rage was clouding my mind. "Well, that's what I want to know," I snorted. "But strangely everyone refuses to tell..." 

I let my words carry the pressure to make each one of them guilty. I know that they knew but still didn't say. Not even when I was breaking. Their beloved Shumi was breaking.

"I wonder what would be the trigger point and you all —"

"She was easy to reach." I was again shoved away. Stopped with blunt ignorance as Uma dida stated, although not meeting my gaze.

I frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"While setting up your apartment, she spent a lot of time here. Within these walls that she hesitated to visit. Her doubts, her confusion, her own pain were blended with what already lingered here, thus it was feeding on her emotions. That's why it was easy."

"Easy for what?" I hissed with my anger, now reaching a boiling point. They all went in circles without proper explanations, and that was pissing me off!

"For it to find her," Uma dida replied, her eyes darkening. "For the spirit that was clinging to the old belongings, her staying here worked to slip into her. The more time she spent here, the more she blended. And finally, it found a doorway under that bridge."

I was beyond confused. Her words made my skin crawl. I looked around the apartment and for the first time, it felt tainted. Perhaps the only person who could answer was my brother. He lived here, and I was facing the consequences. 

"The point you mentioned when suddenly Shumi was thirsty, I have a feeling, it is under the bridge that the spirit finally attacked Shumi, but even before that, it was feeding on Shumi through memories, creating that doorway. Can you tell the exact location?" Uma dida asked. 

Gritting my teeth and suppressing my anger, I described the location and watched something strange.

Shreetama di stiffened. Her eyes darted to Ritoshree di, who suddenly went pale.

"Isn't it the same place where—" Ritoshree di's voice stopped mid-sentence. She gulped as Shreetama di shook her head sharply with her eyes wide.

I saw them. I noticed the looks they exchanged. The tension.

They were hiding something. Again.

I wanted to push them and scream it was enough. They can't keep ignoring and having these silent conversations. 

I needed to know!

Just then, I remembered something Shumi's grandfather had mentioned when I had pranked Shumi.

"I've read her stars. Shumi's born under a very difficult energy. Fragile. Vulnerable. People like her...They attract things. Absorb what others leave behind. Especially when they've been near death once."

"Is it true? Does it make her an easy target?" I asked, telling her what Shumi's grandfather had mentioned.

Uma dida nodded, "Yes. I have also seen her horoscope. Her birth circumstances do make her an easy target, but..." she took a deep breath. "We still have time, and we need to identify the spirit immediately. Otherwise..."

I frowned. I thought they knew. I thought we were finally getting a grip on things. Thought maybe Uma dida's presence brought some protection. 

But no! Again a dead end. 

"Uma dida, I —"

Out of nowhere, we heard a loud slam, the sound of a door shutting with violent force. It came from my room.

At once, I sprinted toward it, the others right behind me.

"Shumi?" I called out, confused to find the room empty. My eyes immediately looked around. The bed was untouched, the blanket tossed like someone had just gotten up in a hurry.

And then I noticed—the balcony door was open, swaying with the storming breeze.

Panic shot through my chest. I rushed toward it and gasped.

"Shit!"

Shumi was outside, climbing down the pipes. Rapidly descend from my floor to the ground. Her body moved with an unnatural speed, way faster than any normal human could. Within seconds, she had reached the ground and was running toward the clubhouse.

"Shumi!" I yelled. But she didn't even look back.

"Shit! Shit!" curses rolled out from my mouth as I dashed down the stairs and into the society compound with others following me. We split up, checking behind bushes, near the clubhouse, the parking lot, and even the garden corners. 

But it was like she had vanished.

Gone.

"I don't think she is here. Let's check the flat again," Uma dida suggested, her tone grim. "Maybe it was done as a distraction. We must hurry."

I didn't even wait for the lift. Took the stairs three at a time, couldn't have thanked my genes for having long legs, and pushed the door open with a bang.

"Shumi?" I called.

My heart sank and rose at once. There she was—unconscious, lying on the floor inside my brother's room.

"Help me!" I yelled, and everyone hurried in. 

Tuhin crouched beside her and checked her pulse. He gulped, looking up. "She is asleep. Her pulse is normal... completely normal."

Mou quickly got some water while I carried her to the bed. Lying her down, I gently splashed the water on her face and kept calling, "Shumi... Shumi, wake up."

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she murmured something inaudible. She held my arm and tried to sit up as I helped her sit against the headrest. Her body limp like a rag doll, she blinked, slowly regaining her awareness.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, brushing her hair from her face.

"Shumi?" Shreetama di came forward with a smile. her eyes searching for something on Shumi's face with concern. But the moment Shumi heard Shreetama di's voice, her entire body went rigid.

Shreetama di seemed to have noticed her sudden stiffness as her smile morphed into a deep frown. 

"You said she looked like me, right?" Shreetama di asked, turning towards me.

I nodded, still holding onto Shumi. My skin suddenly itched. I looked down and saw Shumi scratching my arm. She scratched so hard that blood started oozing. Shreetama di noticed and quickly pulled me away from her, much to my protest. 

"Stand aside, Ved..." She gulped and slowly sat on the Ved, her eyes locked on Shumi's. Her voice was calm but firm. "Let her go..." Shreetama di said in a pleading tone.

Shumi didn't say anything, just kept glaring at Shreetama di. 

"If you can hear me...please let her go. She doesn't —"

The next second, everything exploded.

Smack!

A thunderous slap landed on Shreetama di's cheek, throwing her off the bed and straight onto the floor.

"SHUMI!" I shouted, stunned beyond words.

"Shala beshya magi!" Shumi spat, venom in her voice, her lips curled with rage.

Everyone froze, unable to act. We stood there completely baffled. 

What the hell just happened?

Shreetama di looked up from the floor, her expression more shocked than hurt.

Shumi stared at her with wild eyes, panting heavily.

"Shoitaan meye manush!" She panted, breathing like a caged animal. "Merei phelbo toke! Haramjadi!" Shumi screamed. "Tui amae hukum korbi!" Her fingers pointing at Shreetama di, Shumi shook with anger. "Tui bole dibi ami ki korbo!" 

"SHUMI!" I yelled again, calling out to her.

And then in a split movement, her rage drained, and she gasped. Looking around and holding her head, she broke down in tears.

"Di?" in shock, she looked at Shreetama di fallen on the ground, then, almost like a child snatched away from her parents, Shumi trembled in fear. Her vulnerable state, watching her crumble, worsened my ache. 

"Shumi..." I quickly stepped forward to hold her as she sobbed, reaching out to me. "Ved, please! Please! Make it go away!" she pleaded repeatedly, clutching my shirt tightly and burying her head on my neck. 

Her fingers trembled against my chest. She was broken—utterly lost and helpless. The same girl who had just attacked someone cried like a scared child in my arms.

I held her tighter, my own heart crumbling. "Shumi, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Then I turned to Uma dida, and in a desperate plea, requested her. "Please, why aren't you doing something? Please, help her!"

But Uma dida's eyes were low. She looked... defeated.

"Not unless we can identify the spirit," she admitted, almost in a whisper. "It is extremely powerful. I am no match for it."

Those words felt like a blow.

Tuhin, Kunal, Saikat da and Ritoshree di stood there equally helpless while silent tears ran down Mou's face. 

I looked at Shreetama di, who was slowly getting up. She wiped her tears and came to me.

"We'll not give up, Ved," she said, holding my shoulder. "I promise you, we'll save her. This thing will not harm Shumi; nothing will happen to our Shumi. I'm sure."

Her words were the only thing I had to hold onto in that moment because whatever had taken over Shumi... wasn't letting go so easily. It wanted something I could understand, but from what Shreetama di said, I suddenly felt she knew what it was going after. 

Did she know what perhaps nobody else knew?

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