By morning, the house had changed.
Not visibly—
Spatially.
The hallway felt longer. The stairs had more steps than before.
Zoya counted.
"Yesterday it was twelve."
Today it was sixteen.
Ayaan frowned.
"The house is adding space."
Imran walked ahead, humming quietly. A strange melody mixed with Quranic rhythm.
At the end of the hall, a door stood where none existed before.
Dark wood.
Breathing faintly.
The jinn's voice purred.
"My room."
Ammi shook.
"No."
The door opened itself.
Inside was a prayer room—but wrong.
Carpets stitched with hair.
Walls written with half-verses.
A mirror that reflected fear instead of faces.
When Zoya looked, she saw herself crying.
Even though she wasn't.
The sheikh whispered,
"This is a nesting place."
Imran stepped inside.
The door slammed shut behind him.
From inside came screaming.
Then silence.
Then laughter.
When the door reopened—
Imran's eyes were fully black.
The jinn spoke through his mouth:
"Now I fit better."
The house sighed.
Satisfied.