The mirror stilled.
But the silence it left behind wasn't peaceful.
It was listening.
Ayaan looked away...but the image — the forest on fire, himself inside it — clung to his thoughts like smoke in his lungs.
He didn't realize he was holding his breath...until the man with the camera stepped closer.
"You think it started the day you crossed that border," the man said calmly.
"But that's not where this began."
Rehan crossed his arms. "Then where?"
The man didn't answer right away.
He reached into his coat pocket and slid a photograph onto the table, facedown.
Ayaan didn't touch it.
Sameer turned pale. "No," he said quietly. "Don't."
Zoya looked between them. "What's going on?"
No one spoke.
Then Rehan muttered, "It's about him, isn't it?"
Sameer closed his eyes.
"The kid from school."
---
It happened during their second-to-last year.
Back when they were invincible.
When nothing felt permanent — not fear, not consequence.
There was a boy.
Younger. Quiet. Always trailing after them.
They didn't dislike him. They just… didn't see him.
One night, they snuck out to the old train yard — the abandoned one on the edge of the city.
They dared the boy to come. Told him he had to walk the rails blindfolded — "just five steps," they said.
He laughed, nervous but eager.
He wanted to belong.
So he did it.
He took five steps.
Then six.
Then they heard the horn.
---
No one ever found the body.
The train conductor swore he didn't hit anyone.
There was no blood. No clothes.
Nothing.
Authorities ruled it a runaway.
His parents moved months later.
But the guilt?
That stayed.
Because the three of them...Ayaan, Sameer, Rehan — had been there.
And when it was over, they looked each other in the eyes and made a vow:
"We say nothing."
---
The man turned the photograph over.
It showed the train yard.
The rusted tracks. The old switchboard box.
And in the center — a blindfold, stained with something dark, folded neatly on a wooden plank.
Sameer flinched.
Ayaan whispered, "How did you get that?"
The man said, "I didn't."
He pointed to the camera still hanging at his side.
"It did."
---
Zoya stared, stunned.
"You let someone die… and never told anyone?"
Ayaan's voice broke. "We were kids. It was a dare. A joke. It wasn't supposed to—"
Rehan cut in. "We didn't push him."
The man's voice was quiet — but final.
"No one said you did."
A pause.
"But you watched."
---
The mirror rippled again.
This time it didn't show fire.
It showed tracks.
And the sound of a train coming fast.
And a boy's voice — laughing at first.
Then screaming.
Then nothing.
A gust of wind rattled the windows...
From somewhere outside, a new sound emerged — not footsteps this time, but a low, rhythmic knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
A pattern. Deliberate.
The man turned his head slightly, like he recognized the rhythm.
Rehan's heart sank. "What is that?"
The man set the camera on the table.
Then he did something no one expected.
He removed the strap from around his neck… and handed it to Ayaan.
Sameer blinked. "What are you doing?"
The man's eyes were tired — not cruel. Just finished.
"I was just the watcher," he said. "But someone else must carry it now."
He looked at Ayaan.
"You crossed the line, yes. But you also kept walking."
Zoya whispered, "Wait… if he carries the camera—"
The man nodded. "He sees what others won't."
---
Ayaan hesitated. "I don't want to be part of this!."
The man smiled faintly. "You already are."
The knocking stopped.
Silence thickened.
And then the mirror behind them rippled again.
This time, it showed Naira.
In Sameer's room.
Staring directly into a photo she didn't remember taking.
The man looked at Sameer.
"She found her way in."
Sameer's breath caught. "No. She's not part of this."
The man turned.
"She is now."
---
Rehan ran to the mirror.
"Naira!" he called, knowing she couldn't hear.
But something strange happened.
In the mirror… Naira looked up.
As if she had heard.
And then the mirror cracked.
A single fracture down the middle.
The man picked up his coat.
"The forest is opening both ways now."
Sameer whispered, "What does that mean?"
The man opened the cabin door.
"It means it's not just following you anymore."
He paused in the doorway. Looked back at Ayaan.
"One last thing."
Ayaan swallowed.
"If the forest shows you the fire…"
He met his eyes.
"Don't forget who lit the match."
Then he stepped outside.
And disappeared into the trees.
---