Chapter 2

After I pressed the button, nothing changed in the hallway.

The vending machine downstairs continued to hum. The air-conditioning unit outside the neighboring room kept dripping water.

Five seconds passed, and my back was already drenched in sweat.

What if I'd been mistaken?

Maybe it was just a few wrinkles, and the bedsheet only moved because of the wind.

Was that really enough to justify triggering the emergency alarm?

Ten seconds passed, but there was still no movement from Room 617.

15 seconds after I pressed the button, sirens sounded downstairs. From the sound alone, I could tell that several vehicles were coming, not just one.

They blared all the way from the university gates to the dorm building.

Tires screeched, car doors slammed, and a jumble of footsteps pounded up the stairs.

At the front of the group was a short-haired police officer in her 30s. The moment she reached the sixth floor, her eyes locked onto me.

"Did you call the police?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"There are four students inside," I replied, pointing toward Room 617. "Something's wrong."

"What's wrong?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could get a word out, a sob came from behind the door.

"Ms. Chapman…"

It was a young woman's voice, soft and trembling with tears.

"Ms. Chapman, why did you lock us in?"

Everyone in the hallway froze.

"We were just sleeping…" the voice continued. "What did we do wrong? There are so many police cars outside. I'm scared…

"We couldn't afford to go home, so we stayed here. If the university punishes us for this, my mom will give me hell… Please, Ms. Chapman. Please open the door…"

Each plea sounded more wounded and pitiful than the last.

Officer Joanna Martel turned to look at me, her expression changing.

"They're awake and talking," one of the paramedics beside her said, frowning. "What exactly made you think something was wrong?"

Before I could answer, a furious roar erupted from the stairwell.

"Ms. Chapman!"

Cole Levinsky, head of dormitory operations in Jameston University's facilities department, came charging up the stairs. He'd lost one of his slippers on the way and had hastily thrown a jacket over his pajamas.

He glanced at the police crowding the hallway, then at the access control panel showing that the doors were locked.

Finally, he turned his furious gaze on me, looking as though he wanted to tear me apart.

"Did you press the emergency alarm?" he hissed. "Do you have any idea what happens when you press that thing? The police station, campus security, the university president's office—everyone gets notified!

"The university's on break! And this is what you do?

"Those young women were sleeping peacefully, and you locked them inside! That's unlawful confinement! Do you even understand that?"

He pointed at the door, his hand trembling with rage.

"If you can't give me a proper explanation for this, you'd better pack your things and leave by tomorrow!"

Before he'd even finished speaking, the hallway erupted into chaos again.

The sirens had woken every student still living on campus. With the building locked down and no one able to leave, they swarmed to the sixth floor.

Some wore pajamas, while others clutched their pillows. A few held up their phones and started livestreaming.

"Ms. Chapman, what gives you the right to lock down the whole building?"

"I have a shift at six tomorrow morning! I'll lose money if I'm late!"

"What happened in Room 617? Did someone die?"

"I heard the dorm supervisor went crazy and locked the women inside."

"Unbelievable! It's a holiday, and she's treating us like criminals?"

One phone camera after another was shoved in my face.

"Ms. Chapman, care to explain yourself?"

"Yeah! Give us an explanation!"

Dozens of pairs of eyes bore down on me. Officer Martel, Mr. Levinsky, and even the woman sobbing behind the door were waiting for an answer.

"Ms. Chapman, do you hate us or something?" she cried. "What did we ever do wrong?"

I stood in the middle of the crowd, looking like a lunatic. Everyone thought I'd made a mistake, and I was beginning to believe them.

Still, one image kept replaying in my mind. Those creases slanting toward the space beneath the bed simply didn't seem natural.