The smell of jasmine grew stronger.
Too strong.
Sweet enough to make breathing difficult.
Arjun slowly looked toward the staircase.
Nobody there.
Yet the wooden steps creaked softly, one after another, as though invisible feet were descending.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Meenu suddenly climbed off Devika’s lap.
“She’s beautiful,” the child whispered.
“MEENU!” Devika pulled her back instantly.
A soft laugh echoed through the hall.
Not evil.
Not loud.
A woman laughing gently.
Like a mother amused by children.
The sound came from everywhere.
The kitchen.
The corridor.
Above the ceiling.
Inside the walls.
Lakshmi Amma began muttering prayers frantically.
“She comes with jasmine… always jasmine…”
Arjun opened the diary again with trembling hands.
More pages had loosened from dampness. One page carried hurried writing pressed deep into the paper.
"Narayanan brought her after the floods."
"He said she was only a wandering woman found near the water."
"But children began disappearing after she entered this house."
"At night she stood near the well combing her hair and singing."
"The servants called her Yakshi."
Thunder exploded outside.
The house shook slightly.
Devika whispered, “This is impossible…”
But Arjun kept reading.
"She loved children."
"Especially boys."
"She called them her own."
A cold breeze touched Arjun’s neck.
Someone whispered directly beside his ear—
“Read the last page.”
He spun around.
Nobody there.
But Meenu pointed toward the corridor.
“White aunty is sitting there.”
At the end of the hall, a woman-shaped shadow sat calmly in the darkness.
Long hair.
Watching them.
Arjun turned to the final pages quickly.
The handwriting had become almost unreadable.
"Narayanan lied to me."
"The missing children were hidden beneath the house."
"I heard them crying at night."
"He fed them to her."
Arjun felt sick.
“No…”
Another page.
"When I tried to take my son and leave, he locked me upstairs."
"She wanted my child too."
The next page was stained completely dark except for one line scratched violently into the paper.
"If Arjun returns here, she will come for him."
The diary slipped from his hand.
Silence filled the hall.
Then came the sound of combing.
Slow strokes through wet hair.
Krrr…
Krrr…
Krrr…
Everyone looked toward the old mirror near the staircase.
In the reflection stood a woman behind them.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Wearing a white saree soaked in water.
Her face was pale but strangely gentle.
And she was combing her long black hair while smiling at Meenu.
Devika screamed and turned around.
Nothing there.
But in the mirror…
The woman remained.
Meenu waved happily.
“Hi, Amma.”
The woman stopped combing.
Her smile widened.
Then she slowly pointed upstairs.
Toward Arjun’s childhood room.
The mirror cracked instantly.
A child began crying from upstairs.
Not ghostly this time.
Real.
Terrified.
“Amma… open the door…”