Whispers of the Valley

The mist clung to the hills like a forgotten secret as Susan stepped onto the terrace of Rosary Nest Resort. The air smelled faintly of rain and wild jasmine. Lanterns flickered along the stone pathways, their soft glow reflecting off the dark wooden beams of the century-old resort.

Somewhere in the distance, a faint hum of classical music blended with the rustle of leaves. Susan wrapped her shawl tighter, her gaze drawn toward the shadowed figure near the entrance—Anand, the resort’s longtime caretaker. His presence felt both familiar and unsettling, as if he carried memories not entirely his own.

Over dinner, Susan sat with Ryan, their conversation drifting from work to the beauty of the hills. Yet, her thoughts kept circling back to Anand’s gaze—silent, knowing, as though he could see a version of her that even she could not recall.

That night, Susan's dreams were vivid. She stood beneath an ancient jasmine tree near the east pavilion, her white dress damp with rain. A man stood beside her, his fingers brushing her cheek as he whispered her name—but his face remained hidden in the shadows.

Awakening with a start, Susan glanced at the clock—3:17 a.m. The faint sound of footsteps echoed outside her door. Heart pounding, she pulled the curtain aside, expecting to see only darkness. Instead, Anand stood beneath the distant lamplight, staring toward her window before vanishing into the mist.

The next day, Susan found herself drawn to the east pavilion, its overgrown vines clinging to the wrought-iron gates. Beneath the jasmine tree, she paused, her breath hitching as faint whispers seemed to brush against her ears—soft, indistinct, like echoes from a forgotten past.

"We were here once before," a voice murmured from behind her.

Susan spun around to find Anand standing mere steps away. His gaze held hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I don't understand," she stammered.

"Some places remember what we choose to forget," Anand replied, his voice soft yet insistent. "We stood beneath this tree… and I promised I would wait until you returned."

That evening, tension simmered between Susan and Ryan.

"Why do you keep talking to that man?" Ryan demanded, his tone sharp with frustration.

"I don't know!" Susan shot back, her voice trembling. "It's like... I know him from somewhere. But it doesn't make sense!"

Ryan's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something Susan couldn't quite name.

The final night arrived with the hush of an approaching storm. Rain tapped against the window as thunder rumbled low in the distance. Unable to sleep, Susan slipped from her room and followed the stone pathway toward the east pavilion, the lanterns flickering in the rain-soaked air.

Beneath the jasmine tree stood Anand, waiting as though time itself had paused for this moment.

"You shouldn't have come," he murmured, stepping forward.

"Why do I remember things that never happened?" Susan asked, her voice breaking. "Why do I feel like I’ve known you all my life?"

Anand reached into his coat and withdrew a silver locket, its surface worn smooth with age. Opening it, he revealed a faded photograph—Susan, dressed in a white gown, standing beside a man whose face was obscured by time.

"We loved once... but it ended in betrayal," Anand whispered. "I waited for you to return, but you never did. Until now."

Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the darkness. Ryan emerged from the shadows, rain dripping from his coat. His eyes gleamed with something that sent ice through Susan's veins.

"You shouldn't be here, Susan," Ryan said, his voice unnervingly calm. "This place... it changes people."

"What do you mean?" she asked, stepping back.

"Anand isn’t who you think he is," Ryan replied. "He's been waiting... but not for love."

Anand's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with something primal and ancient.

"I only want what was taken from me," he growled.

Thunder cracked overhead as Ryan lunged forward, pulling Susan away just as Anand reached for her. Lightning illuminated their struggle—the rain-slick grass, the glint of something metallic in Anand’s hand. Susan screamed as they fell to the ground, the world spinning into chaos.

When Susan awoke, the rain had stopped. Dawn painted the hills in shades of gold and grey. She lay beneath the jasmine tree, her dress torn and damp with rain and earth. Ryan knelt beside her, his face pale and drawn.

"It's over," he whispered.

Susan sat up, her gaze searching the grounds. Anand was gone—no footprints, no trace of his presence. Only the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Gone," Ryan replied. "And it's better that way."

Susan clutched the silver locket still clutched in her hand, her heart pounding as fragments of memories flickered through her mind—whispers of a love that should never have been, a promise broken by betrayal, and a soul trapped between worlds.

Epilogue

Months later, Susan returned to Rosary Nest Resort, now under new management. The east pavilion stood abandoned, its gates rusted shut. Beneath the jasmine tree, she found a single white flower resting atop a weathered stone carved with a name half-erased by time:

Anand Thomas

1902 - 1948

Susan's breath caught as the air stirred with the faintest whisper of her name. She turned, but the pathway was empty. Yet the air carried a warmth that felt like a tender embrace from a long-time love.

Or so it seemed.

As she walked away, a figure watched from the shadows—eyes reflecting a promise unfulfilled. The distant hum of a familiar melody floated through the air, as if the echoes of their memories had found a way to linger beyond time.

And somewhere beyond the veil of rain and mist, the past waited, patient as ever.

Unresolved Question: Was Anand a man trapped between lifetimes, seeking to reclaim a lost love? Or was he something far more dangerous—waiting for Susan to return and finish what began long ago?  Or was he a memory that refused to fade, leaving a trace of love that would forever touch Susan's heart?