ℍ𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕙𝕚𝕞. ℍ𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕞. Smoke. Screaming. Heat closing in from all sides. A small hand grips mine so tightly it feels like our bones will fuse together. A boy beside me-just a shadow in the firelight-drags me forward through the collapsing room. "Ruhi... keep running... don't stop..." Every time I try to see his face, the flames swallow him whole. And right when his fingers begin to slip from mine, when I reach out desperately to hold on- -I wake up. My chest is burning. My pulse hammers against my ribs. The nightmare feels too real, too old, too familiar. My name is Aarohi Singh. I'm twenty-four years old. Old enough to know dreams don't haunt you for fourteen years without a reason. Ever since I was ten, I've seen the same flashes- a burning room, a broken silver bracelet, a boy dragging me through smoke while the world collapsed behind us. Doctors called it trauma. Imagination. Something I would outgrow. I never did. And six months ago, something new began. A rose at dawn. Chai waiting on days I never told anyone I was breaking. An umbrella appearing before the rain. A gloved hand pulling me from danger before I even saw it. He's always one step ahead. Always watching. Never seen... but always felt. Someone who knows my silence better than my voice. Someone who knows when I'm afraid, when I'm pretending, when I'm lying to myself. Tonight, the nightmare was sharper. The air heavier. The darkness too still, too aware. And before I even opened my eyes, I knew- The shadow who's been following me for months is no longer outside my window. He's inside my room. Watching me breathe. And I don't scream. Because something inside me whispers a truth I'm not ready to face: I think I know who he is. Or rather... I think I once did.