There was a small table beside the chair.
And on the table…
lay an old diary.
Areeba slowly picked it up.
Her name was written on the cover: “Areeba.” Her heart began pounding.
“Is this my diary?” Dadi Zohra was standing behind her.
She didn’t answer.
Areeba opened the diary.
On the first page, in childish handwriting, there was a sentence: “Today, Meher told me who she really is.” Areeba’s breath caught.
She turned to the next page.
Blank.
Then the next.
Blank.
Then, on one page, there was only a drawing.
Two little girls were standing hand in hand.
Under one of them was written: Areeba And under the other: Meher But behind them, there was a third shadow.
There was no name beneath it.
Areeba brought the diary closer.
At that very moment, the room’s door slammed shut.
BANG!
Dadi Zohra screamed.
“Areeba!” Areeba turned around.
Dadi Zohra had already reached the door.
But it wouldn’t open.
“Why won’t it open?” Dadi Zohra desperately turned the handle.
Nothing happened.
Areeba looked back at the diary.
On the last page, something was being written right before Areeba’s eyes.
As if invisible hands were forming the words by themselves.
One word after another appeared: “You came back.” Areeba’s breath caught.
Then a second line appeared: “This time, you are not alone.” Areeba slowly looked toward Dadi Zohra.
Fear filled Dadi Zohra’s face.
Then a little girl’s faint laughter came from the corner of the room.
Areeba pointed her flashlight toward it.
There was no one there.
But on the floor…
lay a small anklet.
Areeba recognized it.
It was the same anklet…
she had seen on Meher’s foot in the old photograph.
And then…
a little girl’s voice came from directly behind her: “Areeba…” Areeba slowly turned around.
This time, standing before her…
was a little girl.
Her long black hair was scattered across her face.
She wore a white dress that reached the floor.
And in her hands…
she held a red doll.
The girl slowly lifted her face.
Tears began to roll down Areeba’s cheeks.
Because that face…
was one she remembered from her childhood.
Meher was smiling.
“You took so long…” Areeba’s eyes remained fixed on Meher’s face.
The girl standing before her looked exactly as she did in Areeba’s childhood memories.
The same innocent eyes.
The same long hair.
The same white clothes.
But one thing was different.
Meher’s feet were not touching the ground.
She was hovering a few inches above the floor.
Areeba slowly stepped backward.
Meher tilted her head slightly to one side.
“Are you still afraid of me?” No words came out of Areeba’s mouth.
From beside the door, Dadi Zohra shouted, “Areeba, don’t look at her!” Meher immediately turned toward Dadi Zohra.
Her smile disappeared.
“Zohra…” There was no trace of the childlike innocence in her voice now.
“Do you still want to protect her from me?” Dadi Zohra tried to open the door.
“Meher, leave her alone.” Meher gave a soft laugh.
“I never hurt her.” For the first time, Areeba gathered the courage to ask, “Then why did you call me here?” Meher looked at her.
“Because you made me a promise.” “What promise?” Meher slowly moved toward Areeba.
“Remember.” Areeba closed her eyes.
Suddenly, an image appeared in her mind.
She was seven years old.
She was standing in this very room.
Meher was holding her hand.
An old mirror stood in front of them.
Meher was saying, “If I ever go away…” Little Areeba had asked, “Then what?” Meher smiled.
“Then you will call me back.” Areeba opened her eyes.
“I didn’t call you.” Meher stepped directly in front of her.
“Your grandmother did.”