Hey there! A huge thank you for reading the previous chapters and sticking with this story! Your support means the world to me, and I'm so grateful to have you along for the ride. 😊

[P.S.:: Listen to the song above on loop while reading the first part of this chapter.]

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Year - 2025
Ruins of Rajmanya palace 
DAY - 1

Next day.
7 am

Both designer teams stepped out of the mini-bus, ready to begin their exploration. With limited time on their hands, the senior designers had agreed it was best to start early, maximizing their opportunity to explore the Rajmanya ruins.

Advika had come prepared, dressed smartly for the long day ahead. She wore slim-fit black cargo pants paired with a black crop top and a cropped black-and-white checkered jacket. Her black combat boots added both style and practicality to her outfit, and her hair was pulled back into a sleek high ponytail. She kept her look simple with just sunscreen and a touch of lip balm, prioritizing comfort over makeup. Her large travel backpack contained all the essential gear she'd need for the day.

Nusrat had opted for a similar outfit but chose a longer top under her cropped jacket for extra coverage.

As the group gathered, one of the junior male designers from the other team gave Advika a once-over before smirking. "Dressing smart won't be enough to impress the CEO," he said with a smug tone. "It'll all come down to whose sketches stand out. Let's see if yours can even compete with mine."

Advika met his challenge with a sly smile, her confidence unshaken. "I'll let my designs do the talking. But don't worry... I'll keep it fair," she quipped.

Chirag and Nusrat burst into snickers at her quick retort, while the male designer's smirk faded into an annoyed frown.

Joseph, observing the interaction with a smirk of his own, turned to the other senior designer. "Let's split up and cover more ground," he suggested.

The two teams parted ways, Joseph leading Advika, Nusrat, and Chirag into the palace's vast left wing. It was agreed that they'd swap locations the next day, ensuring that everyone would get a chance to explore the entire palace.

... - - ... - - ...

The ruins were a masterpiece of fading grandeur. Massive stone walls stood tall despite the centuries that had worn them down, still carved with intricate patterns like lotus blooms, royal crests, even scenes of celestial dancers frozen mid-twirl. Vines had begun to claim the architecture, curling into cracks like time trying to stitch together the past.

Joseph led the group with Nusrat and Advika trailing a few feet behind. Chirag brought up the rear, his camera clicking at anything that piqued his artistic curiosity.

As they passed beneath the first grand arch, Advika paused. "Let's count if the palace had seven main entrances or not?"

"Yeah," Nusrat replied, adjusting her camera strap. "The internet people claimed there were only three though, right?"

"Yeah," Advika murmured.

They circled a wide courtyard, peering through broken archways and half-blocked corridors. One. Two. Three. Four. Hidden behind a collapsed pillar was number five. A narrow door partly concealed by vines was number six. And finally, a worn, shadowy passage near the far wall hid the seventh entrance.

Both girls looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"There really are seven," Nusrat said slowly.

Advika's eyes narrowed slightly. "Trust me I didn't read that anywhere. But I just... knew."

"Okay, that's weird," Nusrat said, frowning thoughtfully. "Maybe you overheard it during the briefing?"

"No," Advika replied, a little too quickly. "I wasn't paying attention then. I was sketching."

Before Nusrat could press further, a shriek rang out from behind.

They had just turned into a dimly lit corridor when Chirag suddenly froze. Something had brushed against his leg, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. "Snake!" he shrieked, jumping back in alarm. But then he looked down... and realized it was just Advika's ponytail, which had brushed against him when she flipped her hair.

Nusrat turned just in time to see Advika rolling her eyes. "That was my ponytail, genius." 

Chirag glared at her, trying to reclaim some dignity. "Advika, your hair is a hazard! It's like walking next to a living whip. I've almost tripped twice. I'm suing you for emotional damage!"

Nusrat giggled. "The mighty explorer, undone by a hair flip. We should put that on your gravestone."

Advika rolled her eyes, smirking. "Chiru, you're tripping over your own feet because you're too busy gawking at ruins. Don't blame my innocent hair."

"Innocent? Yeah, right. Just make sure you don't trip over your own hair while playing Dora the Explorer, Rapunzel!"

Before Advika could retort, Joseph interjected, shaking his head. "Chirag, instead of worrying about Advika's hair, maybe focus on not tripping over your own legs. I've caught you stumbling twice already while you were spinning in circles like a confused puppy. Admire the place, but keep an eye on where you're going. I don't feel like escorting you to the nearest hospital today."

Nusrat smirked, piling on. "Joseph has a point. The way you're going, you'll probably end up chasing a butterfly and falling into a ditch."

"I didn't trip earlier, I was... testing gravity," Chirag muttered, sulking as the others laughed. "Fine! I'll be careful!"

Joseph, still amused, interrupted. "Alright, enough. Nusrat, Advika, start working on preliminary concepts. Capture the architectural essence, especially those archways and faded murals. Chirag, with me. And no falling into ditches, please."

"Yes, sir!" the girls chorused with mock-salutes, then wandered deeper into the left wing.

... - - ... - - ...

Advika and Nusrat strolled through the ancient hallways of Rajmanya Palace, their steps slow, deliberate, almost reverent. Their voices intertwined with the faint rustling of the wind as it slipped through cracks in the stone walls and latticed jaalis, carrying with it the scent of age-old dust and dried jasmine. Sunlight filtered in through the carved stone screens, scattering delicate patterns on the worn marble floors. The broken chandeliers above them swayed slightly, creaking with every passing breeze, like they too had stories they were eager to share.

Advika's eyes sparkled as she turned her face up to the ceiling, awe shimmering in every line of her expression. "Nusu," she breathed, "can you believe this place used to be someone's home? Like... people lived here. They danced, laughed, whispered secrets in these hallways. Doesn't that blow your mind?"

Nusrat smiled, watching her best friend take in the grandeur like a child at a museum for the first time. "You look like you've just stepped into a dream," she said softly.

"I feel like I have," Advika whispered, almost afraid to disturb the stillness. She turned, tracing her fingers gently over a faded mural on the wall. Its vibrant colors now reduced to faint outlines, yet still beautiful in their decay.

Then, almost shyly, she added, "Nusu... is it weird if I say I feel like I've been here before? Like I know this place? Every creak, every shadow... it feels... familiar somehow. Like a memory I can't quite place."

Nusrat paused, her brows knitting in concern and curiosity. She reached out, touching Advika's arm. "Not weird. Just... intense. But I've seen you like this before. Remember that old haveli in Udaipur? You were practically floating there too."

Advika smiled wistfully. "That was different. I love old palaces. Always have. But this place? It's like... it's calling me. Whispering things only I can hear."

Nusrat gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Maybe it's just that you have a heart that really listens to old places. Most people look at ruins and see rocks. You see stories. That's your gift, Adu."

Advika looked at her, touched. "You always know exactly what to say, don't you?"

"Only to you," Nusrat teased, giving her a light nudge. "You're the only person I'd willingly get lost in a haunted palace with."

They shared a smile, the kind that spoke of years of friendship, of countless shared chai breaks, late-night sketching sessions, and whispered dreams about making it big in the design world.

Just then, Nusrat let out a delighted gasp. "Oh my God! Look at that courtyard!"

She grabbed Advika's wrist and tugged her through a side archway. The air shifted as they stepped into a secluded open space, walled in by ivy-covered arches. A dry fountain stood at the center, carved with delicate patterns of peacocks and lotuses, now faded by time but no less enchanting. Shafts of sunlight broke through the leafy gaps above, casting a golden glow that made the place feel like a forgotten dream.

Advika exhaled slowly. "It's like we stepped into another world," she murmured, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is magic, Nusu."

Nusrat twirled in the middle of the courtyard, her arms outstretched. "It's Instagram gold! Adu, help me take some pictures... like, now!"

Advika laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out her camera. "I swear, you've got two moods; mystic poet or full-on drama queen."

"Today, I'm both," Nusrat announced, striking a pose. "Get my good side. No, the other good side. And wait... let me fix my jacket. Do I have a leaf in my hair?"

"You are the leaf," Advika said with a grin. "Now hold still, Bollywood heroine. This light's not gonna wait."

The next ten minutes turned into a mini photo shoot, filled with laughter and dramatic twirls. Advika played the role of an indulgent best friend and half-annoyed fashion photographer, but her smile never faded.

After several dozen shots and a few shameless selfies, Nusrat stepped back, checking her phone with a proud smile. "Okay, I've got this. You go on ahead. I'll catch up after a few more selfies with the fountain."

"Don't fall in," Advika teased, backing away slowly.

"No promises!" Nusrat called after her, already turning her phone toward her best angle.

As Advika wandered down the next hallway alone, she didn't feel alone at all. The echoes of laughter still danced around her, mingling with the distant sounds of pigeons and the rustle of vines. She walked slowly, her fingers brushing stone and shadow alike, her heart full with just of wonder, but of the unspoken comfort of knowing that whatever she discovered ahead, her best friend would be just a few steps behind.

Shaking her head with a smile, Advika left the courtyard behind, stepping deeper into the heart of the palace ruins. But as she moved further, the heavy silence around her grew thicker, the strange familiarity creeping back with an unsettling weight. Her fingers brushed the rough stone walls, cold and unyielding, and for a fleeting moment, she could swear she was tracing footsteps she had walked long ago, memories just out of reach.

The wind whispered faintly through the empty halls, but now it sounded like something else: a soft, almost imperceptible voice calling her name. Advika's breath caught, her heartbeat quickening. She glanced back toward the courtyard, where Nusrat's distant, carefree laughter still floated faintly, then turned back to the narrowing corridor before her. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath and pressed forward, curiosity battling the cold shiver trailing down her spine.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness slammed into her, and she staggered, reaching out to steady herself against the stone. Her vision blurred and swam, the world tilting like a ship caught in a storm. She blinked rapidly, fighting to clear the haze, but the disorientation lingered stubbornly.

When her vision finally snapped back into focus, Advika froze, her pulse hammering in her ears.

The musty, decayed scent of dust and ruin was gone, replaced by the warm, intoxicating fragrance of sandalwood and fresh jasmine blossoms. Around her, the crumbling walls of the palace had vanished. In their place stood a magnificent hall, vibrant and alive, as if time itself had unraveled and stitched the past into the present.

Golden sconces flickered with a soft, otherworldly light, casting gentle shadows on walls carved with exquisite patterns. Huge paintings, alive with color and motion, depicted scenes of royal grandeur: joyous festivals, noble hunts, and majestic coronations. The marble floors gleamed like liquid silver beneath her feet, plush carpets embroidered with jewel-toned threads cushioning her steps.

"What the hell..." she whispered, turning slowly, her voice trembling with disbelief and awe.

She was standing in the palace's prime... the Rajmanya Palace reborn around her, breathtaking but disorienting, as if pulled into a dream she couldn't wake from.

Then, faint sounds reached her ears. Soft footsteps, slow and rhythmic, echoed down the hallway, accompanied by the delicate chime of ghungroo bells. The haunting melody sent a chill curling through her veins. Advika's breath hitched as the sound grew nearer, nearer, as if summoned by the very walls themselves.

A voice inside her urged her to run, but a deeper part urged her onward, drawn toward the mystery ahead.

Steeling herself, she followed the sound into a narrower, darker hallway. The air grew colder, heavier, as shadows writhed like living things on the carved stone. Her footsteps were soft, but the silence around her amplified every breath.

And then she saw her.

A girl glided a few feet ahead, her movements deliberate and slow.. like a ritual dance. In her hands, she carried an aarti thaali, its flickering flame casting ghostly light against the walls. She moved as though blessing the palace itself, an ethereal guardian of this forgotten place.

The girl wore a shimmering light blue lehenga, embroidered with delicate pink flowers that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. Her dupatta fluttered as if alive, and her wrists jingled softly with golden bangles. Heavy, ornate jewelry adorned her neck and ears, dazzling and out of place in the silent hall.

Advika muttered to herself, voice barely steady, "Why is she so dressed up?"

But then Advika's breath caught, frozen by a chilling realization.... the girl's hair. Long, wavy, knee-length, and the exact shade of rich brown that Advika knew all too well.

Instinctively, Advika touched her own hair, running her fingers through it. The texture, the color... they were identical.

Her heart pounded wildly. She swallowed, took a hesitant step forward, and called out softly, "Excuse me?"

The girl didn't stop or turn. She drifted farther down the hallway, the soft jingling of her ghungroo following her like a dark lullaby.

Advika hesitated, the dread in her chest tightening like a noose. This wasn't just some lost soul. She was tied to the palace, and to Advika, in a way that defied reason.

Summoning trembling courage, Advika hurried after her, boots silent against the polished marble. She reached out, fingers brushing the girl's shoulder.

"Listen, I..."

But the moment the girl turned, Advika stumbled back, a silent scream choking in her throat.

Before her stood a face, her face, but no reflection of life was there.

The skin was deathly pale, almost translucent, as if all warmth had been drained away. Where eyes should have shone, black voids yawned wide, swallowing the faint light. A hollow abyss stared back, empty and eternal.

The aarti thaali trembled in the girl's hands, crimson stains smeared across her fingers.

Advika's gaze dropped in horror. The blood wasn't from anywhere outside.

It was hers.

Jagged, fresh wounds cut across the girl's wrists, crimson droplets trickling down to the floor with silent finality. And on her chest, a terrible gash... deep, torn as if by violent hands... oozed slow, dark blood, staining the delicate lehenga, turning embroidered flowers into grotesque blossoms.

Advika's legs trembled, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Her hair, once soft and flowing, now whipped around her like a wild storm, though the air was still as death. The shadows seemed to pulse, contorting into monstrous shapes that reached toward her with endless fingers.

Her breath hitched in shallow, ragged gasps. Panic clawed up her throat as the ground beneath her tilted.

The last thing she felt was the icy brush of cold, bloody fingers on her arm before the world slipped into blackness.

... - ...

... - ...

Advika's eyes fluttered open.

A sharp chill prickled her skin as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze that clung to her vision. Shadows twisted across the ceiling above her. As her senses adjusted, the crumbling, ancient corridors of Rajmanya Palace came into focus once more.

Her head throbbed.

She groaned softly, clutching her temples as scattered flashes from her vision surged back.... darkness swallowing her whole, distorted whispers in her ear, and her... the girl with the same face. Only... twisted. Inhuman.

She wasn't in the same corridor she remembered. No, this was different. This was that hallway.

The one where she had seen her.

A shiver raced down Advika's spine.

She scrambled upright, breath shallow, heart pounding in her ears. "I didn't know anyone could look that scary..." she muttered, then caught herself. "What the hell am I thinking?" she snapped, shaking her head as if to slap the fear away.

She leaned heavily against a moss-covered pillar, her fingers trembling. What had happened? She could barely remember collapsing and darkness swallowing her whole. But the last thing? The last thing was that girl. The icy brush of her fingers grazing Advika's arm. The touch had felt so real.

Her eyes darted to her arm, but her jacket obscured the view. Without thinking, she shrugged it off, the weight of her unease settling deeper. The moment the sleeve dropped, her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes widened as she stared at her upper arm, where a stark, chilling handprint was etched into her skin. It looked as though someone... no! Something had gripped her tightly, leaving a cold, lingering imprint.

It hadn't faded.

Advika stared at it in horror.

"This... wasn't a dream," she whispered. "It really happened." Her voice cracked.

The edges of her vision pulsed. Her heart thudded against her ribs. What was this place doing to her? Was she losing her mind?

"No... No. Adu, you're just hallucinating. Nothing else. Calm down. Take deep breaths." she said to herself.

Advika forced herself to breathe deeply, trying to shake off the unsettling events that had plagued her mind since she woke up in the palace once again. She couldn't afford to let these strange visions distract her. She had a job to do, and no matter how bizarre things were, she had to stay focused.  

She clutched her camera like a lifeline. "Focus, Advika. Get your shots. Leave the ghost stories for later." Her voice was shaky, but firm.

She pressed on, weaving through the palace's decaying halls. Her camera clicked the faded murals, broken archways, spiderwebs gleaming with dust. She forced herself to see beauty in the ruin. To ignore the way the shadows seemed to stretch behind her when she walked. To ignore the whispering silence that pressed against her ears like cotton.

Time stretched unnaturally as she moved deeper into the palace's forgotten belly. Until, at last, she reached a vast, empty grand hall.

The air was thick here. Heavy with something she couldn't name.

Advika stopped.

Something about this space felt... wrong. As though it had been waiting for her.

Her camera dangled around her neck. She scanned the room.

And then...

She blinked.

And the world changed.

There, in the center of the hall, stood a girl.

Advika's heart stalled.

The girl was her.

But not her now.

No blood. No rotting skin. No hollowed-out eyes. This was a version of herself untouched by time, smiling as she danced in circles across the cracked marble floor.

She wore a lavender lehenga, golden jari glinting like stardust. Her eyes were closed, her arms flowing like water. Joy radiated from her, light and unbothered, as if the horrors of the palace didn't exist. As if she belonged.

[Ignore the flower and imagine her with longer hair.]

And yet,,, there was no sound.

No music. No footsteps. Just an all-consuming silence so deep it felt alive.

Advika's throat tightened.

Tears burned her eyes without warning.

Why was she crying?

Why did her chest ache so deeply?

It felt like mourning. A sorrow so raw it clawed at her ribs. She didn't understand it but looking at the girl felt like looking at something she had lost. Something long buried.

Her teenage self.

Free. Untouched. Happy.

The long hair. The ease in her movement. The expression of someone who still believed in magic. She moved with such joy that it felt like the room itself had come alive, vibrating with an energy Advika couldn't quite explain.

Advika took a trembling step forward. She raised her hand, fingers outstretched, as though she could touch that ghost of who she used to be. But the moment her fingers moved... 

The vision shattered.

The girl vanished. Like a reflection wiped away.

The hall fell silent once again. Advika stood frozen, heart racing, staring into the void where the dancer had been.

Gone.

But the ache lingered.

She pressed a palm to her chest, as though trying to hold herself together. 'Why am I seeing this?' she thought to herself. 'Who are you? Why do you look like me?'

There was just the stillness left in the room. And the distant, creeping sense that something... someone... was still watching.

Advika didn't realize she had started moving until her boots echoed against the marble.

She turned on her heel and ran. Her camera bounced against her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she raced through the palace corridors, past cracked archways and the leering stares of forgotten statues. The hallways blurred around her. The weight in her chest only grew heavier.

She needed to find someone. Anyone.

She needed Nusrat.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

Outside, near the crumbling courtyard where the sun cast long shadows over wild, overgrown grass, Nusrat stood hunched over a weathered stone slab. Her journal lay open on a low ledge, pen tucked behind her ear, her brows furrowed in focus.

She straightened just as Advika came sprinting into view, her boots thudding hard against the cracked stone. Her face was flushed, hair clinging to her damp forehead, and her eyes wild, haunted locked onto Nusrat like a lifeline.

"Adu?" Nusrat stepped forward, alarmed. "Hey! What's wrong?"

Advika didn't answer. She stumbled the last few steps and crashed into her, wrapping her arms around Nusrat in a trembling grip that spoke louder than words.

"I... I saw her," Advika choked out. "Nusrat, I saw her."

"Who?" Nusrat gently held her at arm's length. "Who did you see?"

"The girl... she looks like me. Exactly like me." Advika's voice shook. "Earlier when we got parted, I saw her. She was... twisted. Wrong. Like some distorted version of me. Her eyes were empty. She touched me, and I swear to God, I felt it."

She tugged up her sleeve with shaking fingers and shoved her arm toward Nusrat. Etched into her skin was a faint, bone-white handprint.

Nusrat's breath caught in her throat. "What the hell...?"

"I thought it was just a hallucination," Advika whispered. "A side effect of being in this creepy place. But it left this... she left this. And just now, in the grand hall... I saw her again. But she was different. Not scary this time. She was dancing."

"Dancing?" Nusrat echoed, eyebrows drawing together.

"She looked... alive. Joyful. Like a version of me I barely remember... when I was young, free, before life got so heavy." Her voice cracked. "She was wearing a lavender lehenga, just spinning in the middle of that empty hall. Her eyes were closed. There was no sound, but I could feel something. Like the air itself remembered her."

Nusrat stared at her, stunned into silence.

Advika's voice grew quieter. "It was so real. Both times. And I don't know what scares me more,,,, the monster that looked like me... or the girl who was me."

For a moment, there was only silence between them. A breeze stirred the dead leaves nearby. Somewhere in the distance, an old wooden door creaked.

Nusrat swallowed hard. "We're not alone in this palace."

Advika looked up at her, eyes wide and searching. "You believe me?"

"I'd be a fool not to," Nusrat said gently. "Old places like this... they hold things. Memories. Grudges. Echoes of what once was. Sometimes, those echoes become something more."

She wrapped an arm around Advika's shoulders, grounding her. "You're not crazy, Adu. This kind of thing... it happens more often than people think."

"You've... seen something like this before?" Advika asked, her voice small.

Nusrat gave a slow nod, her gaze distant now. "Years ago. In an old haveli in Rajasthan. I was there for a history project with my cousin. One night, I woke up and saw a woman standing at the foot of my bed... dressed in red, covered in jewelry, her eyes... hollow. She didn't say a word. Just stared. And then she turned and vanished into the wall."

Advika stiffened beside her.

"The next day," Nusrat continued, "we found out that the room I'd slept in used to belong to a bride who died on her wedding night. They said she still waited... for justice, or for closure, no one knew. But from then on, I never doubted what people call 'superstition.' Some places carry pain like a second skin."

There was a beat of silence.

Advika whispered, "Why does it have to be me? Why does she look like me?"

"I don't know yet," Nusrat admitted softly. "But I promise you... we're going to find out. Whatever this is, we're in it together now."

Advika leaned into her, her body still trembling, but just slightly less alone.

And from somewhere within the palace walls, something unseen seemed to stir... like it had been listening. And waiting.

... - ...

... - ...

... - ...

Joseph and Chirag were huddled near a makeshift lunch spot, the faint aroma of spices mingling with the dry palace air. Chirag scrolled through photos on his camera, pausing occasionally to point something out to Joseph. The buzz of their quiet excitement drew Advika and Nusrat in, both making their way over. Advika looked noticeably calmer after her conversation with Nusrat; less pale, more present.

"What are you guys looking at?" Nusrat asked, her voice light with curiosity.

Joseph looked up with a grin. "Chirag found a faded mural in one of the side corridors. Looks like a royal procession. It's old....really old but beautiful." He handed out foil-wrapped chicken shawarmas with practiced ease, and the delicious smell immediately made Advika's stomach growl in response.

Nusrat leaned over Chirag's shoulder to peer at the image. "It looks like a celebration," she mused. "Maybe a festival?"

"Or a royal wedding," Advika added thoughtfully, chewing on her lower lip as she studied the screen. "The figures look like they're dressed in something ceremonial."

Chirag, ever the joker, grinned. "Or maybe they just invented pizza. I'd throw a parade too."

Joseph snorted. "Pizza came around in the 18th century. This kingdom was in its prime in 1225."

"Details, details," Chirag said, waving him off dramatically. "The spirit of pizza transcends time."

Nusrat rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow. "You think everything is about pizza."

"Because pizza is everything," Chirag replied solemnly, making everyone laugh.

Advika chuckled, sinking to the ground with her shawarma in hand. She took a bite, then glanced back at the mural photo, her smile fading into something quieter. "You know... I don't think it's just the history of this place that makes it feel so intense. It's like..." She paused, searching for the right word. "It's like it's alive somehow."

"Maybe because of how well-preserved it is, even after eight centuries," Joseph offered, looking around with admiration.

Nusrat nodded slowly, but her and Advika's thoughts were already drifting back to that silent girl in lavender.

After lunch, Nusrat pulled out the thermal flask she'd packed, eliciting cheers from the group. She poured rich, steaming coffee into paper cups and handed them out with a proud grin. The comforting warmth of the brew lifted everyone's mood further.

Then, with a flourish, Chirag stood atop a broken pillar, one foot raised theatrically.

"Behold! The King of Rajmanya has returned!" he boomed, arms outstretched like a Bollywood hero addressing invisible subjects.

Nusrat burst into laughter. "King? You?! Please. You're more likely to be the royal jester."

Advika raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Honestly, I think the pillar's about to file a complaint."

Joseph, sipping his coffee, shook his head but smiled. "Chirag, maybe let's not damage historical property today?"

Chirag crossed his arms with a pout, his voice full of mock indignation. "You guys always bully me."

The group burst into laughter again, the palace walls momentarily echoing with their joy.

But just as the giggles died down, Advika's eyes flicked toward the corridor leading back to the grand hall. For a moment... just a blink... she thought she saw a pale shimmer slip past the archway.

She blinked again. Nothing.

Still, the chill that crawled up her spine lingered.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

The rest of the day passed without incident, and for the first time in hours, Advika allowed herself to relax... at least a little. No more strange whispers, no ghostly figures, no flickering lights. Still, she stayed cautious, never letting herself be alone for too long. She'd started noticing a pattern: the strange occurrences always happened when she was by herself.

So, through the afternoon, she kept close to her group. If one of her friends drifted off, she made sure someone else was nearby.

By 6 PM, the group piled into the minibus and headed back to the resort. The air buzzed with tired chatter, everyone drained from the long day of exploration. No one had the energy for games or ghost stories tonight. They agreed to rest up as the next few days promised more ancient corridors, crumbling staircases, and hidden murals.

After a refreshing shower, Advika slipped into a soft, mustard yellow maxi dress. Flowing and elegant, it felt just right for a quiet evening; relaxed, but still her.

The resort had set up a buffet-style dinner for both teams later that evening, giving everyone some downtime. She plugged in her phone, then made her way to the dressing table, towel-drying her hair as she hummed a familiar tune under her breath.

She lifted her head to glance at the mirror... and froze.

Her breath hitched.

In the reflection stood a younger version of herself. Dressed in an elaborate lehenga choli, the girl's hair was styled into a neat bun adorned with jewelry. She looked serene, focused, slipping a delicate earring into place. But what truly shook Advika was the calm normalcy of it.... like this was her life, her room, her mirror.

Advika's eyes widened. She blinked once. Twice.

The reflection didn't vanish.

Her heart thudded.

She opened her mouth to call out... just as someone knocked gently on the door.

It was Nusrat.

"Hey, dinner's in about half an hour... whoa, are you okay?" Nusrat stepped in, noticing Advika's pale face and wide eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... " Advika turned back toward the mirror.

The reflection had changed.

Just her again, in the yellow dress. Hair half-dried. Eyes tired.

But the chill down her spine hadn't gone.

"Nusrat, come here. Please. Just look into this mirror for a second."

Nusrat frowned but humored her, stepping beside her and gazing into the glass.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Nusrat let out a soft gasp.

She leaned in. "What the...?"

There, in the mirror, in front of both of them now, the girl in traditional attire reappeared. Only this time, she wasn't just putting on earrings. She was looking right at them.

And smiling.

Advika felt her blood turn cold. Her fingers dug into the edge of the table.

"Tell me you're seeing that too," she whispered.

"I am," Nusrat breathed. "Advika... that's not just your younger self. I don't think that's you at all."

They stared in silence, unable to look away, until the image shimmered... like a ripple on water... and disappeared.

Just like that.

Gone.

Nusrat reached out and touched the mirror.

It was warm.

"I think she wanted us to see her," she murmured. "I think... she's trying to show us something."

Advika swallowed hard. "And the scary part is... I don't think she's done yet."

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

The dinner that evening was filled with laughter and lively conversation. Everyone was buzzing with excitement about the things they'd seen at the palace, each person eager to share their thoughts. The teams sat at opposite ends of the room, huddled with their members, brainstorming ideas and discussing their next moves.

The lively atmosphere brought out Advika and Nusrat from the horror they felt in the room earlier. 

As the conversation flowed, Advika's mind raced with creative thoughts. After a few rounds of brainstorming, she suddenly had an idea. "Why don't we use textures inspired by the ruins? You know, like broken patterns, faded carvings... things like that? It could tie the theme together in a modern way," she suggested, looking at her team.

Joseph looked impressed. "Great idea, Advika. What do you two think?" he asked, turning to Nusrat and Chirag.

Nusrat nodded thoughtfully. "I agree... but I think it would be better if I could see a visual representation to get a clearer idea." She offered an apologetic smile.

Chirag, ever the energetic one, immediately grabbed a pad and pencil from his bag and handed them to Advika. "How about you show us what you mean?" he said with a grin.

Advika took the pad and quickly sketched a rough design, illustrating her concept. As she finished, she passed it around, and the team leaned in, impressed. Nods and murmurs of agreement followed. Joseph, noting the excitement, suggested they start gathering reference images and materials, just in case the other team was cooking up something similar.

Nusrat smiled at the sketch. "Your sketches are so precise, Advika. It's like you're designing for royalty. Meanwhile, mine look like designs for cool rebels who don't care about perfection," she said with a playful pout.

Advika laughed. "Don't be silly, Nusu. You're one of the best designers in our company."

Chirag leaned in with dramatic flair. "She's right, Nusu. I mean, did you see the other team's designs? If design were a war, ours would be the calm, calculating generals, and theirs would be the guy shouting, 'Charge!' without a plan!"

The table burst into laughter. Joseph, mid-sip, choked on his water and began laughing too. He wiped his mouth, still grinning. "You guys are so mean," he said with a chuckle.

"It's all in good fun," Chirag added with a wink. "We'll crush them. No problem."

The camaraderie warmed Advika's heart. Despite the lingering unease from earlier, moments like this reminded her of why she loved what she did and who she did it with.

After dinner, the group slowly began to disperse, some heading to the lounge, others to their rooms. Advika was about to follow when she felt a light tug on her arm.

"Hey," Nusrat said quietly. "Got a minute?"

"Of course." Advika followed her out to the quieter patio area, where soft garden lights glowed and the sounds of laughter faded into the background.

They sat on one of the wooden benches beneath a lantern-lit arch. For a moment, Nusrat didn't say anything.... just watched the shadows flicker on the stone path.

Then, she finally spoke. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what we saw earlier. The girl in the mirror."

Advika tensed slightly, then nodded. "Me neither. Especially after you saw her too. I was beginning to think I was imagining things."

"Nope," Nusrat said. "She was there. Traditional outfit, jewelries, looking straight at us... and smiling. That wasn't a coincidence."

Advika glanced around, then lowered her voice. "It felt like she wanted us to see her. Like she's trying to tell us something."

Nusrat looked thoughtful. "What if she's connected to this palace somehow? Maybe she used to live there. A royal, maybe? A servant? I don't know. But something about her felt... unfinished."

"You think she's a ghost?" Advika asked softly, a little bewildered.

"Was there ever any doubt ?" Nusrat asked raising her eyebrow. "Anyways, I think she's a story waiting to be told." she added thoughtfully.

That sentence hung between them for a moment.

Then, Advika leaned in, her eyes alight with curiosity. "What if we tried to find out about her? Look for paintings, murals, records... anything at the palace that could give us a clue about who she was?"

"I was thinking the same thing," Nusrat said, her voice gaining momentum. "We are going there again tomorrow, right? While everyone's busy gathering textures and motifs... maybe we can sneak off and do a little digging."

Advika smiled. "You read my mind."

And just like that, a plan began to form between them... not for design or decor, but to uncover the identity of the girl in the mirror... and the secrets she might be trying to share.

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To be continued...

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A/N::: And that's a wrap on this chapter! 😄✨ I loved writing the playful team banter over dinner—it gave everyone a chance to show off their quirky sides (Chirag's war speech, anyone? 😂). But more importantly, we saw something deeper begin to take root... 👻

Nusrat and Advika are now holding a shared secret, and let's just say, the ghost girl in the mirror might be more than just a passing shadow. Who is she? Why does she appear to them? And what story is she trying to tell?

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Drop a comment, hit the star if you enjoyed the chapter, and let me know what you think is going on with our mysterious mirror girl. 💬✨

Until next time.