The Night That Never Left

Some nights never end.

They don’t fade with sunrise or soften with time.

They live quietly beneath the skin—waiting for silence.

The mansion was asleep.

Moonlight spilled through tall windows, tracing silver lines across the marble floor. Two women lay in separate rooms, miles apart in their dreams but bound by the same nightmare.

Fire.

Aarohia’s breath hitched as flames climbed walls that shouldn’t exist anymore. Smoke burned her lungs. Tiny hands slipped from hers. Screams echoed—too many, too young.

Run.

Her legs moved, but the ground pulled her back.

Locks slammed shut.

Keys laughed.

Somewhere behind her, a door opened.

She woke with a sharp inhale, fingers clenched into the bedsheet, eyes dry but burning.

Across the hall, Saira jolted upright at the exact same moment.

Her heart raced as the smell of smoke filled her senses—imaginary, yet real enough to choke her. Children cried in the distance. A girl’s voice screamed her name.

Aarohia.

Saira pressed her palm to her chest, grounding herself. She had learned long ago how to survive fear—by swallowing it whole.

They didn’t scream.

They never did.

Silence had once kept them alive.

The clock ticked.

Somewhere in the city, a file was opened.

A name was circled.

A past thought buried… shifted.

Neither woman knew it yet.

But the truth had begun to move.

And this time—

It wasn’t hunting children.

It was hunting survivors.

🖤 Some secrets stay quiet.

🗝️ Others wait for the right moment to return.