The narrow cobblestone streets wound through the village like veins, lined with mud houses painted in faded hues of ochre and indigo. The air was thick with the scent of marigolds from the temple and the damp, earthy aroma of rain-soaked soil.

I walked past the ancient banyan grove, its roots twisting like the gnarled hands of forgotten deities. The village elders claimed spirits lingered here, whispering through the rustling leaves. A pang of nostalgia hit me, sharp and unexpected.

I had been here before. Not as Saudamini, but as Damini.

I could almost see myself-my real self-standing beneath these very trees, Mummy's warm hand in mine, her voice weaving stories about the old gods and the restless souls trapped in this land.

The scent of mogra flowers clung to the air.

My throat tightened.

The past and present were colliding, merging like threads in an unfinished tapestry, tugging at me from different lifetimes.

I had to move.

I climbed the worn stone steps to the fort, its walls standing defiant against time. Built in the 10th century by the Vakataka dynasty, it had changed hands over centuries-once a proud stronghold, now a forgotten relic reclaimed by nature.

From the top of the Burj, I could see all of Palshett spread below me, stretching to the vast Arabian Sea beyond.

I used to play here. Laughing. Running. Frolicking with my cousins.

Now, it was just me.

The waves crashed against the shore, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a rare sense of peace.

---

Back at home, Aunt Radha sat on the veranda, leisurely enjoying her paan, her gold bangles clinking as she chewed.

"Stay home," she advised, not even looking up. "The afternoon sun is no place for a young girl to wander."

I ignored her concern. "We have a new schoolteacher."

Aunt Radha smirked. "I knew the headmaster wouldn't hire you. You're too young. Who told you to skip grades?"

She was mocking Saudamini, but I wasn't her. I wasn't as brilliant as the original.

"Don't worry," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "The old witch will come this evening. Have lunch and find me later."

The old witch.

I had almost forgotten about the meeting.

Because all I could think about was Uday.