Author's pov :
The car rolled to a slow stop in front of Arshad’s house—a sprawling bungalow that looked more like an estate than a home. Towering pillars framed the entrance, and the wide verandah stretched out like open arms, but to Anjali, it felt like the jaws of a trap waiting to snap shut. The air was thick, almost suffocating, as if even the wind knew she was being dragged into a place she had vowed never to step into again.






Write a comment ...