Srihaas always wore a mischievous smile. His friends called him a cutie pie, not just because of his chubby cheeks and sparkling brown eyes, but because he had a knack for making people laugh even when they wanted to cry. But tonight, the laughter had faded. Srihaas stood at the edge of the whispering woods, plucking nervously at the sleeve of his too-big hoodie, the one his sister, Laya, had gifted him last winter. Laya was missing. She’d vanished into the woods that afternoon, chasing a vivid blue butterfly, and hadn’t come home for dinner. The forest loomed before Srihaas now—a tangle of shadows and crooked trees, shrouded in the purple hush of twilight. “Srihaas, don’t go in there. Everyone says it’s haunted!” his best friend, Vikram, whispered, wide-eyed from behind the old gate. But Srihaas shook his head. “If Laya’s there, I have to find her. Ghosts or not.” With a determined g...

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