"Morning comes to those who sleep,
but what wakes in Bhairavpur
wears the face of yesterday's hope."
The silence after Diya's words didn't break.
It settled.
Like sediment in still water.
Like something final that couldn't be disturbed without consequences.
Yashpal lay on the table, his breathing shallow.
His eyes closed but not sleeping.
His body present but his mind somewhere else.
Somewhere that had already accepted truths the rest of them were still fighting.
Meghna had moved to the far wall.
Her back against stone.
Her arms wrapped around herself as if she could hold her own pieces together through sheer will.
Rohit paced.
Still pacing.
As if movement could outrun understanding.
As if one more step forward might lead him back to a time when this all made sense.
Priya sat with her camera in her lap.
Not filming.
Not documenting.
Just holding it like a child holds a toy after learning the world isn't safe.
Saanvi had curled into herself on the floor.
Eyes open but unseeing.
Like she was looking through the ground.
Through the layers of earth beneath Bhairavpur.
Looking for something that might explain this.
Abhay stood by the window.
His silhouette against the gray dawn light.
Watching the village wake.
Or watching it remember how to wake.
And Diya remained where she was.
In her corner.
Her head tilted back against the stone.
Her locket held loosely in one hand.
Her eyes half-closed as if she was listening to something only she could hear.
As if the village was whispering directly to her.
Telling her things.
Sharing secrets.
The morning stretched.
Hours passed or minutes passed.
Time had become unreliable.
A negotiation rather than a fact.
Finally, Abhay spoke.
His voice cutting through the fog like a knife.
"We need water."
"We need to eat."
"We need to maintain routine."
His words were practical.
Simple.
But they carried weight.
They carried the authority of someone who had made a decision.
Who had accepted what Yashpal had said and was now moving forward despite it.
Or perhaps because of it.
"Routine," Rohit repeated.
His voice hollow.
"You want us to pretend."
"I want us to survive," Abhay replied.
His tone leaving no room for argument.
"Whether that's real or not."
The distinction hung in the air.
Real or not.
Meghna stood slowly.
"He's right."
Her voice was steadier now.
Like she had decided something.
"We can't sit here and dissolve."
"If we're trapped, at least let's be trapped together."
"At least let's be... something."
One by one, they began to move.
Small actions.
Gathering containers for water.
Checking what little food remained.
Organizing the space as if order could create stability.
As if the act of cleaning could cleanse them of what they now knew.
Diya rose slowly from her corner.
Her movements graceful in a way that felt almost choreographed.
She moved toward Abhay without speaking.
Without needing to speak.
And Priya noticed.
Her eyes sharpening.
Watching how Diya moved through space differently when he was in it.
How her shoulders relaxed.
How her breath seemed to sync with his.
"Someone should check the eastern path," Abhay said.
"See if there's anything we missed."
"I'll go," Diya said immediately.
Too quickly.
Priya's mouth twitched.
A smile trying to form.
But before she could speak, before she could tease, a sound interrupted.
A knock.
Not at the door.
But from outside.
Three deliberate knocks against the broken fence that surrounded the haveli.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
Everyone froze.
That sound.
That particular sound.
The same rhythm as when Yashpal had returned.
Abhay moved to the window.
His body tense.
"There's someone there," he said quietly.
"A man."
"I don't recognize him."
Rohit moved to join him.
"Is he... is he one of them?"
"I can't tell," Abhay replied.
"He looks... human."
The word hung.
Human.
As if humanity itself had become questionable in Bhairavpur.
Meghna crouched low.
"Don't let him in."
"We know what happens when—"
But Saanvi was already moving toward the door.
"Wait," she called out.
Her voice small but determined.
"Wait, what do you want?"
A pause.
Then a voice came from beyond the fence.
Clear.
Accented differently from any of them.
Not local.
Not village.
"Please," the voice said.
"I'm lost."
"I've been walking for days."
"My name is Marcus."
"I'm from outside."
The group exchanged looks.
Outside.
The word itself felt impossible.
"Don't open it," Abhay warned.
But Saanvi had already unbarred the door.
Just slightly.
Just enough to see.
Beyond the fence stood a man.
Perhaps thirty.
European or American by his features.
Wearing clothes torn and dirty but with the kind of wear that spoke of recent travel, not months of captivity.
His hair was matted.
His face unshaven.
But his eyes were alert.
Desperate but alert.
"Please," he repeated.
"I don't know where I am."
"My group... we were hiking three days ago and somehow ended up here."
"I've been separated from them."
"I don't know if they're—"
He stopped.
Looking up at the haveli.
At their faces in the window.
And something flickered in his expression.
Recognition.
Or fear.
Or both.
"This place," he whispered.
"What is this place?"
Rohit stepped forward.
Before Abhay could stop him.
"Where exactly were you hiking?"
Marcus's hands shook.
"Near the forest."
"We saw a road sign for a village called... Bhairavpur?"
The name confirmed.
The outside world confirmed.
Or so it seemed.
Priya looked at Abhay.
Her eyebrow raised.
"We could ask him about the way out."
"He might actually be—"
"Don't," Abhay said.
His voice sharp.
But he was already moving toward the door.
Already opening it wider.
Already letting this stranger into their dying circle.
And Diya watched from across the room.
Her hand still holding her locket.
Her expression unreadable.
As if she had expected this.
As if she knew what came next.
Marcus stumbled inside.
Collapsing onto the floor.
His breathing heavy.
His body real.
His presence undeniable.
"Thank God," he gasped.
"Thank God there's someone here."
"My group... we need to know..."
"Has anyone else come through?"
"A woman? Two others?"
Meghna knelt beside him.
"When did you last see them?"
"This morning," Marcus said.
"We were together and then the path split and when we regrouped..."
He trailed off.
His eyes going distant.
Like he was remembering something that didn't quite fit.
"They weren't there anymore."
"It was like they'd been erased."
Rohit's jaw clenched.
"That's what happens here."
"People disappear."
"Or they change."
"Or they become part of this place."
Marcus looked at him like he was insane.
But didn't argue.
Because looking around the haveli, at their hollow eyes and their careful movements, he could see that arguing would be pointless.
That they already knew things he was only beginning to learn.
Abhay helped Marcus to his feet.
"You need water."
"You need rest."
"We'll figure out the rest after."
But Abhay's eyes met Diya's across the room.
And in that moment, something unspoken passed between them.
A knowing.
A shared understanding.
A secret that didn't need words.
Because Diya had known Marcus would come.
Or perhaps some part of Abhay's mind knew.
The part that was writing this story.
The part that was deciding who would live long enough to matter.
And who would die in a way that would break the others.
Marcus settled into the corner Diya had vacated.
Drinking water.
Eating the small amounts of food they offered.
Telling them about the hiking trip.
About the group that had come to explore Bhairavpur for reasons none of them could quite remember clearly.
Talking about the world outside.
About roads and cities and places where people didn't disappear.
And the group listened.
Desperate for proof that the outside world still existed.
Desperate for hope.
Desperate for anything that might suggest escape was possible.
Priya moved closer to Diya.
Who was standing alone now.
"You like him," Priya whispered.
Not about Marcus.
About Abhay.
Diya's cheeks flushed.
Just slightly.
Just enough for Priya to catch it.
"I don't know what you mean," Diya said softly.
But she was smiling.
A real smile.
The first real smile any of them had seen in days.
Priya's grin widened.
"Oh, I think you do."
And across the room, Abhay was helping Marcus with more water.
But his attention was divided.
Part of him listening to Marcus's story.
Part of him aware of Diya.
Always aware of Diya.
Always positioning himself where he could see her.
Always making sure she was safe.
Always ensuring she was taken care of.
The way someone takes care of something precious.
Something they couldn't bear to lose.
Something that meant everything.
By evening, Marcus had recovered enough to be coherent.
He showed them a map from his backpack.
Marked with the route they'd taken.
A route that should have been impossible from outside Bhairavpur.
A route that suggested the forest had reconfigured itself.
Or that Marcus's group had been walking in circles from the start.
"We have to try," Marcus said.
His voice carrying the conviction of someone who hadn't yet learned that conviction meant nothing here.
"We have to find my group."
"We have to get out."
Rohit looked away.
Meghna said nothing.
But Abhay nodded.
"Tomorrow," he said.
"We'll search tomorrow."
"We'll find your group."
And Diya watched him make that promise.
Watched him commit to something he somehow already knew would fail.
And she understood.
She had always understood.
"The visitor arrives when hope is dying,
and leaves when it's dead."