Chapter 3 Room 510

The knock echoed, heavy and sharp, striking the old wooden door like a hammer trying to shatter what little peace remained in the small house. Ann flinched, her swollen, tired eyes barely opening as she glanced toward the door, just a few steps from her bed. The house seemed to shake with every blow, the walls vibrating with the force of each impact.

She pulled her right hand over her ear, trying to block out the sound, then curled her body deeper into the blanket. The thick fabric became a protective shell, a place where she hoped to vanish, to become invisible, like a snail retreating from danger.

For the past year, her life had turned into hell. That man-the source of all her suffering-had appeared like a storm, ripping away her happiness and dragging her into an ever-growing circle of darkness. All the sacrifices she had made to protect her family seemed in vain. Her struggle felt fragile, like paper ready to tear at any moment.

The voice of that man came from behind the door, his whisper cold and deadly. "Ann! If you don't open this door, you'll regret it!"

Ann pressed the blanket tighter against her ears. The sound of his voice made the hairs on her neck stand on end, like the hiss of a snake ready to strike. She didn't want to see his face again, not now, not ever. Her body trembled, but she stayed still, hoping he would give up.

A kick slammed into the door, hard, jolting her. "Fine..." His voice shifted to a more menacing tone, cold but full of certainty. "Sleep in your shell, Ann. I'll prepare a big surprise for you."

The words hung in the air like toxic mist, seeping through the blanket around Ann's body. She knew he wasn't joking. She knew that tonight-or tomorrow-something terrible would happen.

When the sound of his footsteps slowly faded into the distance, Ann finally loosened her grip on her head, trying to take a deep breath to calm herself. Her eyes closed, struggling to force her body into sleep, even though she knew it might only be an illusion. Time seemed to stretch, and after almost an hour, her mind remained clouded with dark thoughts, weighing down her eyelids, which refused to close fully.

She gave in. With a sudden movement, Ann tossed the blanket aside. The cold air touched her skin, but she didn't care. Her slow footsteps took her to the narrow bathroom, dimly lit by the faint yellow light of an old lamp.

There, an old mirror hung above the sink. Its cracks formed a spiderweb pattern, with the center of the cracks looking like the mark of a blow. Ann stood still for a moment, staring at her distorted reflection. Her face looked paler, fractured like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit together.

The mirror had been there since she was little. The cracks had long been a part of that bathroom, but Ann had never known how they appeared. No one ever explained, and she never asked. It was just one of the little mysteries she let slide, one of many in the house.

She washed her face. The cold water made her shiver for a moment. Afterward, she brushed her teeth without much effort, her gaze drifting to the soap and shampoo nearly used up on the small shelf. In a simple motion, she used them until they were gone, then tossed the empty bottles into the trash with a "clink" that broke the silence.

That house, though small, held everything-warmth, the chill of silence, fading memories, and unanswered mysteries. Ann glanced briefly toward the living room. She knew her mother had long gone, taking her brother with her. The villagers always gossiped about their family, calling her brother the child of an affair. But Ann didn't care.

Every time memories of them surfaced, her stomach turned. Not from sadness, but from disgust at the people who betrayed her family, at the blurred faces in her memory that she had never really known.

She put on a thick jacket and her favorite blue hoodie, packing away a few old things she had-one by one, photos that could be counted on her fingers. Maybe after she left, the house would be filled with dust or even flattened to the ground.

"Bless you!" Ann opened her father's dusty drawer. Her small hand grabbed a tissue and pressed it to her nose, trying to reduce the dust. Inside that little drawer, she found a family photo. Five people smiled at the camera, with her father's handwriting on the edges of the photo. She recognized her father and grandmother's names, but the adult woman holding her seemed unfamiliar. It said a name: Ellen Walters.

Her small eyes shifted to a photo of her father holding a young girl, around one or two years old. It said a name: "Sherry Walters!" Ann murmured.

"What are they like now?" Ann asked the empty room. She gave a faint smile and placed the photo in her bag.

"Finally!" Ann muttered, standing and placing the bag near the door. The bag felt light, no more than a few clothes and the things she had kept all this time. But that was fine. She didn't need much.

The long night had arrived. The night she would leave the madness of the city behind. Her heart had long been broken, and now, she hoped to find peace elsewhere-maybe with a new family, maybe just a hope she hadn't known.

"Haha..." She let out a short laugh, more to herself, then pulled the brown scarf around her neck. Her eyes fixed on the wooden door before her, and her hand rose to open the door handle.

However, her movement stopped. Her hand hung in the air, shaking lightly, as a memory surfaced. A blurry face flashed in her mind-someone she might never see again if she left. Her chest felt heavy, as though a weight was pressing down on her heart, making it hard to breathe.

She took a deep breath, lowered her hand slowly, and took a step back. She left the bag where it was. Calmly, Ann grabbed her mask, scarf, and gloves, then stepped out into the cold of the night.

Her small feet ran along the city streets, passing through crowds of people who didn't recognize her. They glanced briefly but quickly forgot her. They didn't know, and maybe they never would, how important this night was to her. She just wanted to make sure of one thing-that everything would end well, without leaving regrets in her heart.

Her breath was heavy, and white mist billowed from her mouth, disappearing into the freezing air. After a few minutes, she slowed down, her steps becoming more relaxed as she reached a narrow alley.

Ann stepped into the dim shadow, finding the usual corner she visited. There, she slowly sat down, hugging her knees tightly, letting her head droop. Her eyes closed, her body stiff, as if waiting for someone to come. There was no sound except for the distant rustling behind her. But she knew... she just had to wait, as usual.

The clock read 9:33 PM. The temperature in City M had dropped to -4 degrees, but the girl, with skin as white as snow, sat still without showing any signs of being cold. Her face remained calm, as though the snow itself was part of her.

The narrow alley where she sat was a little warmer than the main streets exposed to the wind and snow. Small white particles fell, drifting into the alley, like salt scattered across the ground. The light snow covered the path in front of her feet, but Ann didn't move. She just hugged her knees, letting time pass.

Ann took a deep breath. She knew this wasn't their usual meeting time. They almost always met at 5:00 AM, when the first frozen dew appeared in the air.

But tonight, she felt the need to try.

"I'll wait one more hour," she thought, resting her head on her knees. Her body shrank as though trying to fight off the cold, even though she didn't appear to be affected by the low temperature.

The silence of the night was broken by the vibration of her phone.

Buzz...

Ann slowly lifted her head, her eyes fixed on the small light from the phone's screen, which then went dark. She tapped the screen twice with her gloved fingers and read the notification that appeared. Her eyes were glued to the message. In an instant, the silence returned to the alley. The snow continued to fall, and for a few seconds, the world seemed to stand still.

[Your gift is ready, Room 510!]