She doesn't remember when it started only that it never really stops. Aarohi begins noticing the gaps first. Small ones. Harmless, almost. Seconds missing. Movements she doesn't recall making. Then it gets worse. Hours disappear. Her body reacts to things she can't see. Bruises appear where no one touched her. And every time she tries to prove it, the proof changes... like something is correcting her before she understands it. But she's not alone. At least... it doesn't feel like she is. There's something that stays close without showing itself. It doesn't speak. It doesn't need to. It knows her patterns. Her silence. The exact moment she starts to panic. Sometimes she feels it behind her. Sometimes in the mirror. Sometimes so close that breathing feels shared. And then there's Arman. Real. Visible. Human. He shows up when things start slipping too far. Says things he shouldn't know. Understands things she hasn't even admitted to herself yet. He doesn't question her he recognizes her. Like he's seen all of this before. Like he's been there before. And that's the problem. Because the more Aarohi tries to separate them the presence that never shows... and the man who stands right in front of her the more they start to feel the same. Same silence. Same timing. Same knowing. So what is he, really? The one who's been watching her... or the one who wants her to believe that? And what if the real question isn't who is real but who she's already started to become?