Areeba ran after the sound without thinking.
But as soon as she reached the upper floor…
the corridor was completely empty.
There was only one door in front of her.
That door…
was locked from the inside.
And from beneath the door…
a faint light was spilling out.
Areeba slowly approached the door.
She placed her hand on the handle.
It was as cold as ice.
Then a girl’s voice came from inside.
“Areeba…” Areeba closed her eyes.
The voice came again.
This time, it was barely a whisper.
“Open the door…” Areeba turned the handle.
The door opened.
And inside…
there was no one.
Only an old chair.
A white dupatta lay across it.
And on the wall…
A huge portrait was hanging on the wall.
Areeba pointed her flashlight at it.
Her breath caught.
In the portrait…
her grandmother was standing.
And beside her stood a little girl.
Areeba stared at the portrait carefully.
That little girl…
was Areeba herself.
Areeba stood completely frozen in front of the portrait.
Her eyes remained fixed on the painting.
“How can that be me…?” she whispered.
The girl in the portrait looked barely six or seven years old.
But Areeba remembered her childhood.
She had never seen this mansion before.
Or perhaps…
she had simply convinced herself that she had never seen it.
Areeba reached out to take the portrait down from the wall.
But the moment her fingers touched the frame…
the light in the room suddenly went out.
Darkness.
Deep, absolute darkness.
Areeba immediately turned on her phone’s flashlight.
When the light came back on, the portrait was no longer hanging on the wall.
It was lying on the floor.
Areeba picked it up.
The glass in the frame had shattered.
Her eyes fell on the back of the portrait.
There was something written there.
She brought her flashlight closer.
There was only one date: 17 October 2006 Areeba read the date again.
A strange uneasiness stirred inside her.
2006…
She had been born in 1999.
That meant she had been seven years old in the photograph.
The date was exactly right.
But then one question remained…
What was she doing in this mansion?
Areeba turned the portrait over.
Another sentence had been written on the back in pencil: “Areeba must never remember what happened that night.” Areeba immediately turned on her phone’s flashlight.
When the light came back on, the portrait was no longer hanging on the wall.
It was lying on the floor.
Areeba picked it up.
The glass in the frame had shattered.
Her eyes fell on the back of the portrait.
There was something written there.
She brought her flashlight closer.
There was only one date: 17 October 2006 Areeba read the date again.
A strange uneasiness stirred inside her.
2006…
She had been born in 1999.
That meant she had been seven years old in the photograph.
The date was exactly right.
But then one question remained…
What was she doing in this mansion?
Areeba turned the portrait over.
Another sentence had been written on the back in pencil: “Areeba must never remember what happened that night.”