Chapter 3: Don’t Trust Anyone Here

But just then, a new friend request popped up on my phone.

The note said she was in 701. The profile pic was a girl-next-door type.

She had that Midwest smile—sunny, a little shy, the kind that makes you want to trust her. For a second, I wondered if maybe things were looking up.

I immediately accepted.

I barely had time to type a hello before her message came through. The typing dots flashed, then her words appeared, sharp and fast.

But the first thing she said was:

"You’re the new tenant, right? Let me give you some advice—don’t believe a word anyone in this building says. If you want to live, get out of here before the vigil is over!"

My thumb froze above the screen.

Suddenly, the room felt colder, the shadows a little longer.

I stared at her message, heart pounding, wondering if I’d just stepped into something much darker than I’d ever imagined.