The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, painting pale stripes across the floor.
Devendra's mother watched him from the doorway.
The small movements of her five-year-old son unsettled her in ways she could not name.
He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes unfocused.
Hands trembling slightly.
The kind of trembling that came from more than cold.
From something deeper.
She took a step forward, her heart tightening.
"Are you… feeling alright today, Devendra?"
Her voice was gentle, careful, but she felt the hesitation.
Even as she spoke, she knew the answer would not be simple.
Devendra didn't respond at first.
He just stared at nothing, hands still, yet quivering.
"Mom…" His whisper was almost swallowed by the room.
"I… I can feel her again."
Her stomach knotted.
Her hand went to her chest as if that would stop the fear rising inside her.
"Her? Who, Devendra?"
He blinked, slow, deliberate, as if trying to remember the words before they formed.
"The girl… the shadow… she's still… here. Even when I wake up."
The words felt impossibly heavy.
A chill ran down her spine, though the sun was warm.
She knelt beside Devendra.
Her fingers brushed his hair, attempting comfort.
"I know… I know it feels real. But it's not, okay? You're safe here."
Devendra swallowed, but the tremble did not stop.
"It doesn't… it doesn't feel safe. Mom… I can hear her whisper even when I close my eyes. She… she watches me."
She bit her lip.
This was worse than anything the doctors had predicted.
Sleep paralysis was one thing.
But this… this was a child haunted in every corner of his life.
"We'll figure it out. Don't worry, Devendra. You're not alone, I'm right here."
But even she felt the weight of it, the quiet despair that seeped from him.
Every morning she saw the faint shadow in his movements.
The empty pauses, the murmurs to no one.
The way Devendra's little body flinched when the wind made the curtains sway.
"Maybe… maybe we should see someone again," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Devendra nodded slowly, eyes downcast.
"Will it stop?"
She shook her head slightly, unable to lie.
"I don't know, darling. But we'll try."
For now, it was all she could promise: presence, patience, and worry carried silently in her chest.
Outside the window, the village carried on.
Children laughed. Dogs barked.
The world moved.
But inside this small house, Devendra and his mother felt the weight of something that would not leave, not yet, maybe never.
And deep in the corners of Devendra's mind, the shadow waited.