(They both look ahead; Sufiya has vanished.)
Zohan: Sufiya...
Aayan: Zohan, what do we do now?
Zohan: I don't understand it either—where did this voice come from? What are we supposed to do now?
Aayan: Sufiya was telling us about a specific book; do you think we need to find it?
Zohan: Yes, come on. That's our only hope now.
(They search everywhere—behind the wardrobe, under the wardrobe, all around the table, and in the other rooms—until they finally find a book under a bed in one of the rooms.)
Aayan: Man, bro, this thing looks terrifying just to look at! you take it.
Zohan: give it here. Hena was right about you—you big coward.
Aayan: Hey, bro, I'm not scared! It just gives me a bad vibe, that's all.
Zohan: By the way, girls don't usually like guys who are cowards.
Aayan: Really? Is that true?
Zohan: Yeah, bro.
Aayan: Alright then, give it here—I'll read it.
Zohan: Fair enough. Here you go.
(Aayan opens the book.)
Aayan: The first page says that everyone currently here is either in a coma or already dead.
Zohan: So Sufiya was telling the truth!
Aayan: Wait—further down, it also mentions the writer.
Zohan: What is the writer's name?
Aayan: Oh, man... that part of the page is torn off.
Zohan: Okay, never mind. Just keep reading. Aayan: "Well, it goes on to say..."
(The Book's Story: "I am a writer. I am incredibly happy because my family gave me their full support, even though our financial situation at home was far from good.
I was always preoccupied with thoughts of getting rich quickly—constantly wondering how I could amass wealth as fast as possible.
Then, I met a girl. However, she came from a wealthy family, and I felt that we were completely mismatched; I would simply admire her from a distance.
One day, she approached me herself and confessed that she liked me very much. I tried hard to reason with her, explaining that we were incompatible—that we weren't meant for each other and that our worlds were entirely different. But she simply replied, 'Money doesn't buy happiness.' What? What on earth did that mean? I wanted to tell her exactly how money *does* buy happiness, but in her presence, I found myself unable to utter a single word. I told her that I will tell her later, and she agreed.
I went home and began to ponder: Was this girl just trying to make a fool of me? No... no, that couldn't be it. She didn't even have a best friend, so who would she be conspiring with to mock me? Perhaps she really *does* like me.
I even shared this with a friend of mine. He asked, 'If she's coming right up to you and proposing, why are you turning her down? Just say yes to her!' So, I made up my mind that I would go the next day and say yes to her. Then, when I went to the spot where she had asked me to meet her the following day... then...")