The morning sun spilled golden light across the verdant hills, casting shadows that danced like whispers among the trees. Arohi stood at the edge of the garden, the remnants of Aryan’s shirt still clinging to her skin, a tangible reminder of their fleeting intimacy. She inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of blooming jasmine filling her lungs, but her heart felt heavy with uncertainty. The interruption of the mysterious woman still lingered in her mind, a specter of doubt casting a pall over her burgeoning feelings for Aryan.

Determined to shake off the tension, Arohi decided to explore the garden further. The old wooden shed beckoned her once more, its rustic charm inviting her to uncover more of its secrets. As she pushed the door open, a cloud of dust swirled in the sunlight, and she found herself surrounded by the echoes of the past. She spotted the old book, "The Ties That Bind," lying on a shelf, its pages yellowed with age.