Chapter 3

Another sound came from outside the door.

This time, it wasn’t a knock.

Someone pushed an envelope through the gap beneath the door.

Inside were three report forms.

The first one read:

Report against 1204 for secretly keeping unauthorized outside items at night.

The second one read:

Report against 1204 for attempting to speak while the elevator’s red light was on.

The third one was blank.

A line of tiny text appeared on the back:

Before midnight, hand over one room number.

Otherwise, all three reports will count against you.

I stared at the three sheets and finally understood what Daniel meant by “screening people.”

Silence wasn’t safety here.

Silence simply meant allowing someone else to write the charges against you.

I turned the blank report form over and examined the bottom.

The paper was thin and carried a damp, musty smell.

Two rules were printed so faintly that they were almost invisible.

Reports had to be truthful.

False reports made the reporter responsible.

I took photos of them.

At eleven thirty, a property management notice appeared in the group chat.

Property Management—William: “Routine inspection tonight. All households, please remain quiet.”

401—Eris: “Received.”

1001—Sam: “Received.”

703—Alex: “Received.”

Everyone replied within one minute.

I was the only one who didn’t.

At eleven fifty-seven, the corridor lights outside my apartment turned red.

A very soft sob came from the stairwell.

“Please help me… Is anyone there…”

The voice sounded like a young woman’s. It broke off repeatedly, trembling with tears.

I knew I couldn’t open the door.

But the next second, she called me by my real name.

“Dorothy Smith, your brother is with me.”

I still opened the door a crack.

I left the security chain fastened.

It wasn’t because I believed her.

It was because Daniel’s third recording had specifically included this sentence.

“If someone calls your real name while the red light is on, don’t answer.

“She didn’t get your name from the landlord’s records.

“She saw what I left behind.

“You can look, but don’t make a sound.”

A girl in a white dress stood at the end of the corridor.

Her hair was completely soaked, and a trail of wet footprints followed her.

When she saw me, her lips moved.

The red light above the elevator was still on.

I didn’t make a sound.

A look of urgency appeared in the girl’s eyes, and she raised a hand toward the stairwell.

A red report box hung there.

Half a photograph was clipped to the outside of the slot.

I narrowed my eyes to make it out and nearly rushed outside.

The photograph showed Daniel.

He sat on the edge of the bed in Apartment 1204, holding an old door plaque.

The girl in the white dress retreated into the shadows of the stairwell.

I took out my phone, opened the camera, and pointed the screen outward.

When I removed the security chain, the metal made a sound as faint as a needle hitting the floor.

Under the red light, the entire floor was so quiet that it seemed as if someone had sucked all the air away.

I walked barefoot to the report box and pulled out the photograph.

A message was written on the back:

If you want to find him, report 1001.

That was Sam’s apartment number.

I had just slipped the photograph into my pocket when the elevator doors opened behind me.

William stood inside.

He wore his blue uniform, but the name on his badge had changed to “Duty Officer.”

He held a black ledger in one hand.

“1204, you left your apartment while the red light was on.”

I didn’t say a word.

William smiled and opened the ledger.

“First violation. Name recorded.”

The tip of his pen had barely touched the paper when Ginny’s voice came from downstairs.

“Mr. Jones, I’m reporting 1204!”

I spun around.

Ginny stood at the bend in the stairwell, her face bright with the excitement of someone who had been waiting for this moment.

She held up her phone as if she had just captured evidence.

“She came out while the red light was on!”

William’s pen stopped.

He looked at Ginny.

“No one may speak while the red light is on.”

Ginny’s expression froze.

The corridor fell completely silent.

She had spoken first while trying to report me.

William wrote a few lines in the ledger.

“201. Spoke voluntarily during the red-light silence period. First violation.”

Ginny tried to explain, then clamped both hands over her mouth.

I suddenly understood why Daniel said the rules could be used against the people who followed them.

These neighbors survived by reporting one another.

But they were also afraid of being caught by the rules.

Before I went back inside and closed the door, I saw Ginny lower her head and walk slowly downstairs, one step at a time.

At some point, a dripping-wet hand had appeared in her vegetable basket.