.
.
That evening, after Tanaya and her family ate the food sent by relatives, they went to sleep. But Tanaya felt restless, as though something was wrong. She tossed and turned, struggling to shake the unease. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and she drifted into a deep sleep.
In the dead of night, a group of men crept into the house. Moving swiftly, they poured a strange liquid around the rooms, their silence eerie. One of them flicked a lighter—click—and tossed it inside. Flames erupted instantly, engulfing the house.
Outside, the Sardar watched, the firelight reflecting in his cold, merciless eyes. With a cruel smirk, he and his men disappeared into the darkness. Soon, agonized screams filled the air as the fire consumed everything.
Tanaya, just 11 years old, and her entire family perished in the flames. The village was left in mourning, haunted by the cruelty of that night.
Suddenly, Tavian jolted awake, gasping for breath, his body drenched in sweat and tears. Disoriented, he looked around, struggling to grasp reality. His phone buzzed nonstop beside him, pulling him back to the present.
"Hello? Tavian speaking."
"Hello, Tavian Nox! Congratulations! Your story has been accepted by a rising star artist. She wants to work with you on her upcoming comic!"
"Wh-what?"
"Yes! Come to the office now! She's waiting for you!"
"S-SURE! I'm coming!" Tavian takes deep breaths, then silently screams in excitement.
His heart races as he searches for his manuscript—but it's gone. He's sure he brought it home. Confused, he checks the locked room. To his shock, the door is sealed shut, as if he never broke it open. His phone buzzes again. Pushing aside his unease, he rushes to the office.
"Sir... It's me, Tavian," he calls before entering.
"Come in, Tavian! Well done! I knew you could do it. The award-winning artist I mentioned is here as a guest, and who knew she'd read your script and immediately like it?"
"I am thankful—"
"Here! Come, Tavian, have a talk with Madam. I have some work to do, so I'll leave you two to discuss the comic." Tavian faces the lady, and something feels strangely familiar about her face.
Without thinking, he blurts out, "Do I know you somehow, ma'am?"
She laughs lightly, "Do you? I don't know. By the way, nice to meet you. I'm Tanaya Alam. And you?"
"I'm Tavian—wait, sorry, could you say your name again?" "Tanaya Alam," she smiles, as if she knows something. Tavian shakes it off, feeling a bit confused. "Tavian Nox." As they talk about the comic, Tavian notices a scar on her hand. "Pardon my rudeness, but this scar..." "Oh, this? It's from a fire in my childhood."
"Oh," Tavian says, sensing that's the end of the conversation on that topic. Later, back at home, he feels uneasy. Wasting no time, he grabs the wood from last night, breaks the lock, and enters the room. It looks the same, but after searching for an hour, he still can't find the typewriter. "Where are those things? Was yesterday a dream? Why do I remember this room so clearly?" he wonders.
Admist of his train of thoughts his phone buzzes. He checks it:
[Unknown number:] Hey! It's me, Tanaya! Remember to save my number, Tavian :).
...