The three of them returned to the alley at midnight.
Areeba's hands were clammy, her heart pounding. The alley looked the same—dark, damp, silent except for the distant hum of Karachi traffic.
The dogs were there.
The hungry one stood at the edge, watching them with sorrowful eyes.
The others were eating.
The fabric tonight was white.
Areeba's blood turned ice-cold.
"It's real," Zoya whispered.
Sana clutched her arm. "We should leave."
But Areeba had already pulled out her phone, snapping a picture.
A sharp growl cut through the night.
The dogs stopped eating.
All at once, they lifted their heads.
Their eyes gleamed, reflecting the streetlight.
They were staring. At her.
Then, something shifted in the darkness.
A shape. A shadow.
It moved behind the dogs—tall, thin, watching.
Areeba took a step back.
The shadow moved.
Fast.
Straight toward them.
"RUN!"
The three girls turned and bolted out of the alley, their footsteps pounding against the pavement.
They didn't stop until they were back at Zoya's apartment, gasping for air.
Areeba checked her phone.
Her pictures were gone.
Like they had never been taken.