Three Knocks at 2:17

Every night at exactly 2:17 a.m., Aarav heard a knock on his bedroom door. It was always three

slow knocks. The first night, he thought it was his imagination. The second night,

he sat up in bed, heart pounding, and whispered, “Mom?” No answer.

In the morning, he asked his parents. They looked confused. “We were asleep,” his father said.

“No one came to your room.” On the third night, Aarav decided to stay awake.

He watched the clock. 2:16… 2:17. Knock. Knock.

Knock. His door handle slowly turned. Aarav froze. His door opened

by itself, just a little. The hallway was dark, but he saw something—