Till Death Do Us Part

Every night, she screams-and only I can calm her.
When I, Vedant Malhotra, moved into my brother's old apartment, I hadn't expected the girl upstairs to hate me.
LIKE LITERALLY, WITH ALL HER MIGHT.
Shoumili Banerjee - sharp-tongued, distant, and far too complicated for someone like me.
I never intended to get involved-but here's the catch. I needed her. First, to win over a stubborn old music teacher for my sister's school, and then to help me fix up the apartment, which looked creepy and was in a complete mess. So, we struck a deal.
But there was something off about Shumi. She froze whenever my brother's name came up, dodged certain questions, and carried a kind of indifference in her eyes.
Then came that night. The screams. The way she clung to me, like I was the only thing keeping her alive.
I didn't know what was happening to her, but I wasn't someone who ran away. Even if it meant fighting shadows, losing my mind, or walking straight into hell.

I was ready to fight for her, till death do us part.