In the forgotten village of Nandapur, nestled between dense forests and misty hills, lived an old woman named Maiya. People feared her not because she was wicked, but because her house was the only one that never lost its candlelight—even on stormy, moonless nights.The villagers whispered tales about her:“She talks to shadows,”“She keeps dead birds under her bed,”“She’s lived for a hundred years without aging.”No one dared to go near her broken wooden gate, especially after dark.One stormy night, Ravi, a 17-year-old boy, lost his way in the woods. The downpour made the forest unrecognizable. Trees loomed like silent guards