The storm arrived faster than it should have.
By the time they stepped out of the lighthouse, the sky was an ocean turned upside down — thick, gray, full of threat. The trees bent with each gust. The lake slapped its shores like something trying to crawl out.
Dev walked between them, his red guitar case slung across his back like a burden he'd carried alone for too long.
Ruhan kept glancing at him, afraid if he blinked too long, Dev would vanish again.
But Dev was solid. Breathing. Tired.
And grieving.
"She didn't drown in the water," he said as they reached the edge of the lake.
"She drowned in the silence. The kind we never broke."
Samaya stood still, hair whipped by wind. "We didn't know how to talk about it."
Dev's jaw clenched. "We should've tried anyway."
Ruhan looked at the water. "She jumped to prove we'd catch her."
And they hadn't.
Not that night. Not for years.
They moved to the place where the rocks curved like an open palm — where the four of them used to sit, legs dangling, tossing pebbles, dreaming of futures too big for their bodies.
It was where Aarya had let go.
No screams. No drama.
Just a silent drop.
"I watched her fall," Dev whispered. "She smiled at me the second before she slipped. I thought she was joking. I laughed."
Ruhan turned to him. "We can't fix that night."
"No," Dev said. "But we can stop leaving her there."
Samaya pulled something from her pocket. A ribbon. Faded pink. Water-wrinkled.
"I found this on the first stair today," she said. "She used to wear it in her braid, remember?"
Ruhan touched it gently. "She said it made her feel like a story."
Dev took the ribbon, wrapped it once around his wrist like a band.
"Then we finish her story."
They sat in a circle, knees touching, palms open between them. The wind howled louder now. The lake was rising, spilling over the rocks, licking their shoes.
No one spoke.
Then Samaya whispered:
"If she still remembers us, she'll hear this."
She began to hum.
It was a lullaby. Old. One Aarya used to sing softly when Ruhan had nightmares.
Dev joined in, his voice cracking. Then Ruhan.
Three voices.
Wavering, off-key, broken — but together.
The wind calmed for a moment. Just long enough.
Then —
The water glowed.
Not with light. But with memory.
Images rose like breath beneath ice.
Four kids running.
Aarya's laugh echoing.
The pact, scrawled in chalk.
A drop of blood on a page.
And then — her face.
Looking up at them.
Not drowning.
Waiting.
Samaya gasped. "She's still down there."
Dev stood up, his eyes wet. "We go now. Tonight."
Ruhan looked at the storm behind them. The memories rising. The pact beneath their skin.
"No more waiting."
He stepped into the water.
And the others followed.