place felt lonely… but not frightening.
"People say strange things about this road," he said awkwardly.
The old lady chuckled softly.
"People say strange things about many things they don't understand."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
A cool wind moved through the trees, carrying the smell of earth and leaves.
Then the old lady asked,"What is your name, young man?"
"Arjun."
"That's a strong name," she said. "Are you from the village school?"
"Yes."
She nodded slowly, as if thinking about something far away.
"I used to teach at that school," she said quietly.
Arjun blinked in surprise.
"You… were a teacher?"
"Many years ago."
Arjun looked at her again, this time with curiosity instead of fear.
The villagers had never mentioned that.
The old lady looked back at the empty road stretching into the distance.
"Children used to pass by this road every day," she said. "They would wave and laugh."
Her eyes softened with memory.
"But time changes many things."
Arjun didn't know why, but he suddenly felt sad hearing those words.
Maybe the old lady wasn't mysterious or dangerous at all.
Maybe she was just… lonely.
He adjusted his bicycle and said,"Well… I pass this way sometimes. I can say hello again."
The old lady's eyes brightened slightly.
"I would like that."
Arjun gave a small nod and began riding again toward the village.
But as he left the narrow road, he couldn't stop thinking about the old house.
Or the quiet old lady sitting on the porch… watching the road as if she were waiting for something that might never come.
What Arjun didn't know was that the house at the end of the road held a story much deeper than any village rumor.
And soon, he was going to become part of it.