No one moved.
Outside... the footsteps stopped just beyond the window.
A hush fell over the room — the kind that sucks the air from your lungs and replaces it with something colder.
Ayaan took a step forward.
"Don't," Zoya said quickly.
He froze.
"Don't draw his attention unless he's already looking."
Sameer stared at the curtain, thin and yellowed with age. A silhouette shifted behind it — not pacing, not breathing heavy. Just… waiting.
Rehan's fingers twitched toward his pocket — instinct.
"Do not take out your phone," Zoya whispered. "He doesn't like being recorded."
The room went still again.
Then — a tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Three soft knocks on the glass.
Measured.
Like a signal.
Zoya whispered, "Someone has to answer him."
Sameer's voice cracked. "Answer how?"
"Say your truth."
Ayaan stepped forward before he could talk himself out of it.
He didn't touch the window.
He just spoke.
"I crossed the line," he said. "I brought something back. I ignored every sign. And… I pretended it wasn't my fault."
A pause.
The silhouette stayed.
Then — moved.
A slow drift toward the door.
A second passed.
Then another.
And then— the knob turned.
---
They all stepped back.
Zoya didn't flinch.
The door opened.
And there he was.
The man from the photo.
Older now. Tall. His face was blurry in a way that didn't make sense — not hidden, just… hard to hold in your memory, like it slipped sideways when you tried to look too long.
Around his neck: an old analog camera.
Still. Heavy. Quiet.
He stepped inside.
Didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
Zoya nodded, as if she'd expected this.
"You've come for them."
He tilted his head slightly...
Sameer whispered, "Who is he?"
Zoya turned to him.
"The one who documents what the forest remembers."
---
The man reached into his coat.
Pulled out a photograph.
Held it out toward Ayaan.
Shaking, Ayaan took it.
It was a picture of himself, standing beside the border line — frozen in that moment he took the first step across.
But the photo showed something no one had seen before.
A hand in the trees behind him.
Reaching out.
Pulling back.
Sameer leaned over. "What is that?"
The man with the camera finally spoke.
His voice was low. Sandpaper-soft.
"That's the moment it chose you."
---
Rehan stepped forward. "Why? Why us?"
The man turned his face slightly.
"You stepped into a place built on memory and thought it would let you leave unchanged."
Then, to Ayaan:
"You didn't just cross the line. You marked it."
Zoya's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
The man pointed at Ayaan's chest — not touching, just hovering.
"You weren't the first to enter… but you were the first to be remembered by it."
A heavy silence.
"Now it's your turn," he added.
Ayaan's voice broke. "For what?"
The man looked toward the back wall.
Toward the mirror that had not reflected anything earlier.
And slowly, he raised his camera.
Click.
Flash.
The mirror rippled.
---
But the reflection didn't show Ayaan.
It showed the forest.
On fire.
Screaming.
Alive.
And someone was still inside it.
Running.
Zoya stepped back. "Who is that?"
The man said nothing.
But Ayaan knew.
"It's me."
---