The glass doors of Devrek Psychiatric Institute slid open with a quiet sigh as Aarohi stepped inside. Cool air met her skin, laced with the sterile scent of disinfectant and old echoes The place didn’t feel like a hospital. It felt like a vault for untold stories — the kind locked behind eyes, not words. Her footsteps clicked softly on the marble floor as she approached the front desk.

The receptionist — a woman in her forties, sharp-bunned and unreadable looked up, “Yes?”