I reached the panel to my room, crawled out, closed it, and pushed the wardrobe against the wall….-HONGNGOC

It was a stage full of traps.

A body full of hidden organs.

I sat up abruptly, trembling. The bed creaked softly.

I froze, waiting for him to return.

Nothing.

Only a distant sound… like something being dragged beneath my feet.

Metal scraping against concrete.

I swallowed hard.

And then I remembered Mom’s last week.

How she tried to tell me something when she could barely breathe.

How she grabbed my hand and pointed downward, to the floor, to the house itself, as if the house were the enemy.

And I remembered her last clear words, barely whispered:

“Never drink anything… unless you’re prepared.”

That night, I finally understood.

It wasn’t paranoia.

It was a warning.

I got out of bed barefoot.

I grabbed my phone.

I put it on silent.

I turned on the flashlight at minimum brightness.

Then I walked to the wardrobe.

The wall looked perfect. Smooth.

But now I knew where to look.

I slowly ran my fingers along the paint until I felt a tiny seam, almost like a crack.

I pressed where Daniel had pressed.