Chapter 7: The Woman in White
Just as the door was about to shut, it paused. The woman stood inside, lowering her voice to a near-whisper.
Her eyes looked darker in the slice of light. “Excuse me, when you came upstairs and got out of the lift… did you see anything?”
She glanced toward the shadowy corridor, hand trembling, bangles barely making a sound.
A chill settled in the air. The corridor felt longer, the tube light above flickering as if straining to hold back the night.
“I was in a hurry to help you, so I just got out of the lift, turned left, and saw you. Didn’t notice anything. Is there something at the stairwell?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out a little dry.
She gestured to the stairwell. “Did you see a… a white figure, just standing there?”
A shiver ran up my arms. “A white figure? In the stairwell?”
She nodded, whispering, “Yes. A woman in a long white saree, hair covering her face, just standing and facing the lift. Not moving at all.”
Her fear was almost physical, and I remembered every chudail story Dadi ever told during power cuts.
“Could you go over and check for me? Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Her voice cracked.
I hesitated, but her pleading eyes left me no choice. This is India—sometimes you have to do more than your job description.
I muttered a silent Hanuman Chalisa under my breath, heart thumping like a dhol, and nodded.