Chapter 3
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The police sent a final image showing her lying in a cold pool of blood. The wounds on her wrists were deep enough to expose bone, her blood soaking the carpet beneath her.
Beside her lay a round glass fishbowl, shattered to pieces.
I was losing my mind. It was just one question—how could someone as carefree as Lena commit suicide over it?
Could curses actually exist in this world?
Lena's death hit me like a sledgehammer, leaving me frozen in place.
I don't remember returning to my room. I only recall Daniel's bloodless face and those bone-chilling words: "She slit her wrists."
The world fell terrifyingly silent, with only the sound of my pounding heart remaining.
I couldn't stay here any longer. This town, this man—both filled me with a bone-deep terror.
I picked up my phone from the carpet and staggered over to Daniel, struggling to keep my voice steady: "I want to go home. I need to leave this place."
He didn't look at me, his empty gaze fixed on the window as if he hadn't heard me.
Just when I thought he wouldn't respond, he suddenly asked, his face deathly pale, as if trying to comfort me:
"That sushi, did you think it was good?"
My brain froze.
Lena was dead—his best friend was dead—and he was asking about sushi?
Uncontrollable rage surged through me, overwhelming my fear and grief. "Daniel! What are you talking about?! Lena is DEAD! She's DEAD!"
"I don't care what you do—I'm leaving right now!"
My screaming seemed to flip a switch inside him.
The forced smile on his face slowly vanished.
BANG!
He violently flipped over the coffee table, sending cups and decorations shattering across the floor.
"Emily! Why won't you just LISTEN?" He advanced toward me with bloodshot eyes. "You're not going ANYWHERE! You're staying RIGHT HERE!"
I backed away in terror until my back hit the cold wall, with nowhere left to go.
I couldn't risk provoking him further.
I nodded frantically, my voice quivering with fear: "Okay… okay… I won't leave. I promise."
He stared at me intently, as if gauging my sincerity. After what felt like an eternity, he finally withdrew his terrifying gaze and left the room.
I immediately rushed into the bedroom and locked the door behind me.
I could feel his presence lurking outside, his gaze like a cold snake still coiled around my body.
With trembling hands, I messaged Kieran on the social media app.
"Lena is dead! She asked that question, and then she died!"
After sending the message, I stared at the screen, each second stretching like an eternity.
Finally, his reply appeared.
"She asked a question she shouldn't have."
My heart plummeted.
I typed frantically: "Daniel's gone mad! He won't let me leave—I think he wants to kill me! What exactly is this curse? What should I do?"
Instead of answering directly, Kieran sent a series of questions.
"Think carefully. Has Daniel shown any other unusual behavior recently?"
An image immediately flashed through my mind: about a week ago, he came back to the hotel late at night with a dark red stain on his shirt. He claimed he had accidentally brushed against wet paint.
And one night, under the lamplight, I noticed several strands of startling white hair in his sideburns!
Daniel is only 28 years old!
Kieran continued: "Has he brought back any strange… old items recently?"
"Yes! A week ago, he brought back a pocket watch!"
An ancient-looking, tarnished mechanical pocket watch.
When I tried to pick it up for a closer look, he snatched it away and hid it.
I hurriedly told Kieran about all these discoveries.
There was a long silence from his end.
Just when I thought he wouldn't reply, a new message appeared.
"Find a mirror or anything reflective."
"Look at him in the reflection. See if he has a shadow."
My heart began racing. I carefully approached the floor-to-ceiling window in my bedroom that faced the living room.
Daniel sat motionless on the living room sofa, his back to me, like a statue.
I took a deep breath and slowly turned to look at his reflection in the glass.
The window clearly reflected the living room.
I saw myself, the bed behind me, the sofa, the chandelier…
But on the sofa, where Daniel should have been reflected, there was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
In the reflected world, he simply didn't exist.
