Nimal never walked that path again. But sometimes, late at night, villagers claim they see a faceless figure standing at the edge of the banyan tree, facing away from the road—beckoning to travelers who dare to look back.
But when Nimal reached the widow’s hut, she asked him, “Why is your rice sack empty?”
Nimal bit his tongue until he tasted blood. He did not move. He did not open his eyes.
