The name echoed in all their minds.
"Lydia…"
But none of them had ever read or heard that name before. Not in the hotel's history, not in Margaret's letters. It was like she'd been… erased.
Prajwal paced the room. "We need to find out who Lydia is. Because clearly, she doesn't want to be forgotten."
Swara opened her diary and started writing. "We've seen Margaret's pain. We've read Eleanor's lies. But Lydia… this is something darker."
Akshara, still shaken from the mirror, said quietly, "Uski aankhein thi… jaise andar tak dekh rahi ho. Jaise vo jaanti ho main kaun hoon…"
Anushka, surprisingly serious for once, added, "Aur vo sirf mirror mein nahi thi. Jab raat ko neend se uthi, mujhe laga vo mere bed ke paas thi. Saans ki awaaz sunayi di thi."
Everyone fell silent.
Swarali finally spoke up. "We need to check the hotel's restricted archives. The ones under lock."
Apurva raised an eyebrow. "Aur chabi kahan se laayein? Churaayein kya?"
Prajwal smirked. "Exactly."
That night, they waited for the receptionist to fall asleep. Then quietly, Swara and Rutuja snuck into the back office. They grabbed the master key and unlocked the rusted cabinet marked "Private – Pre-1900".
Inside, they found dusty files, torn birth records, and one small leather-bound journal with a gold 'L' on it.
They brought it back to the room and opened it.
The handwriting was delicate. Elegant.
"My name is Lydia Eleanor Graves.
I was the first wife."
Everyone froze.
"Eleanor ki pehli biwi thi Lydia?" Khushi said, shocked.
Swara read aloud:
"Edward loved me. But I could not give him children. I was cast aside. Eleanor came after… with her charm and lies. He married her—but never divorced me. I became invisible. Forgotten. A shadow in the house I once called mine. I cursed this place with my last breath, that no woman shall ever find peace here until the truth is known."
Silence.
Srushti looked around. "So Lydia… is the real curse."
"Margaret wasn't the one haunting this place," Prajwal said slowly. "She was a victim too."
Akshada clenched her fists. "Iska matlab… Ophelia bhi ek pawn thi. And all this time, Lydia has been watching… waiting."
A gust of cold wind swept through the room. The lamp flickered.
And then, a whisper in the dark:
"You found me."
They turned around.
The mirror—shattered hours ago—was now perfectly whole.
But their reflections were gone.
In the glass, stood Lydia.
White gown. Blood-stained hands.
And behind her… the entire hotel.
Burning.
---