Chapter 9: Nowhere Is Safe

My wife looked at me with concern: “What’s wrong? You look so pale.”

Her words were soft, but her gaze was sharp—searching for any hint of a lie.

“Nothing, just a sudden stomachache.” I forced a weak smile, clutching my side.

“I’ll get you some hot water.” She started to stand, but I stopped her. “Wait!” I took a deep breath and looked at her. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Her eyes flashed with panic, but she quickly smiled: “No matter what happens, remember: I’m the only one who truly loves you and wants the best for you. Everyone else is just trying to deceive you.”

Her words were sweet, but her smile was cold. The room felt icy.

Her gentle smile only made me more uneasy. I replayed every detail from the night before. Could she have found out about my messages?

I glanced at my phone, regret churning in my stomach. Sure enough, she snatched it from my hand. Her movements were quick—almost practiced. She scrolled through my apps, checking everything.

Thankfully, I’d deleted my chat with the expert. I tried to look casual, maybe making a joke about doomscrolling or checking fantasy football scores, but my heart was pounding.

But her face suddenly turned serious. She held up the phone: “What’s this about?”

I froze. It was the group chat log from last night. I’d forgotten to delete it. My mind scrambled for an excuse. I managed a shaky laugh.

“People these days are so bored, making up all kinds of nonsense. And you, playing along with them.”

She didn’t seem mad—just tired. She handed the phone back, shaking her head.

“Haha, I was just bored and couldn’t sleep. I wanted to see how far he’d take the story.”

She rolled her eyes, stuffed the phone in my hand, then went to the fridge, complaining she was hungry. The tension snapped. I exhaled, legs weak.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief. But right then, the mysterious netizen messaged me. My phone buzzed, the timing almost cruel.

“What did you do? Why did she decide to act early? I just calculated—today is your death day.”

The words hit me like a punch. My vision blurred. I looked around the living room, nerves on fire.

“Nothing happened. My wife just went to eat.”

“Do you believe if you try to go out now, she’ll appear right behind you?”

I swallowed, remembering the morning’s door handle scare. My hands shook.

“What should I do?”

“Find a high place to hide. Soon, you’ll see something surprising.”

“What do you mean?”

He went silent. My nerves were shredded. I looked at the quiet kitchen. Better safe than sorry.

There weren’t many high places in our home. After searching, I settled on the wardrobe in the second bedroom. It was the only spot big enough. I stared at it, then made up my mind.

There were two empty compartments on top, unused for years. Old coats, forgotten luggage, dust everywhere. The air up there was stale, but it felt safer than anywhere else.

I opened the wardrobe, stood on the bed, and grabbed the edge. The bed creaked. I prayed my wife wouldn’t hear. I hauled myself up—thank God for gym days. I squeezed into the compartment, knees tight to my chest, heart pounding.

The dust up here made my nose itch, but I didn’t dare sneeze. Every creak sounded like a gunshot.

Just as I got in, my wife’s voice echoed outside. Her footsteps sounded closer. I held my breath, pressing myself to the back wall.

“Honey, where are you?”

Her voice started sweet, but by the third call, it had a jagged edge—like a broken music box winding down.

“Honey.”

She sounded closer now, her voice echoing in the hallway.

“Come out.”

There was a note of insistence. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to slow my breathing.

“I see you.”

My blood froze. I pressed myself deeper into the shadows.

“Come out! Come out!”

Her voice cracked, turning sharp and inhuman. The hair on my arms stood up. I could hear her moving through the rooms, opening doors, slamming drawers. My heart thudded so loud I was sure she’d hear it.

I didn’t dare breathe. I clamped a hand over my mouth, praying she wouldn’t find me. Every second dragged on forever.

Even the faint light from my phone made my heart pound. I shielded the screen, risking a glance at the latest message from the netizen. My hands shook as I read, barely daring to hope.

“Well? Did you see it?”

“Are there a lot of them?”

I peeked through a crack in the wardrobe door—and what I saw made me wish I’d never climbed up here.