---Author POV---

Devgarh never really changed, though years had passed. The streets remained narrow, worn, and quiet, as if the town had learned to hold its breath whenever anyone new arrived. The Sharma Villa sat at the far edge, half-hidden behind an overgrown garden and iron gates that creaked under the weight of time. Sunlight slanted through the trees, brushing dust motes over cracked tiles, and the air smelled faintly of jasmine and old stone. Every corner seemed to hum with memory, as if waiting for someone to return.

---Anika POV---

Anika stepped out of the car, boots crunching against gravel. The gate loomed before her. Cold, familiar, and heavy with the past. She brushed her fingers over the iron railing, feeling its ridges and the slight chill that seeped into her skin.

Bas ek raaz hai… she whispered softly, almost to herself. The words tasted strange, heavy in her mouth. She didn’t feel afraid. Not yet. It was… anticipation, a tension she couldn’t name.

The villa’s doors stood tall and silent. Inside, dust floated lazily in shafts of sunlight, illuminating corners that had long gone unnoticed. The air smelled of aged wood and stone, a scent she somehow remembered, though she hadn’t been here in years. She let her fingers trail along the banister of the main staircase. Every groove felt deliberate, as if someone had carved them not just to shape the wood, but to leave a memory behind.