CHAPTER 4 — Beyond Room 307

ANGEL’S POV

“The Thread has returned—”

The words stop there, but they don't leave my mind.

Thread. Again.

I don't look back at the beggar. I don't watch the security guards pull him away. I grip the handle of my suitcase so hard my knuckles ache. Then I hurry past the tall school gates and onto the vast campus standing before me. Students move around me, talking and laughing, but their voices feel far away.

Footsteps come up behind me.

“Angel? Wait. Let me help with that.”

Vincent.

His voice is calm and smooth, like he's used to people stopping whenever he speaks.

I keep walking.

“Angel. I'm serious. You look pale.”

I say nothing. Sister Agnes always said silence is God's shield for women who can't trust their tongue. Right now, I need that shield. If I speak, I might say something cruel to Vincent. So I keep quiet and walk faster.

He tries again, asking if I'm cold and what my favorite subject is. When I still don't answer, he finally gives up. His jaw tightens, lìke a man who has never been ignored before.

“She’s just tired,” Juliet says quickly, her voice trembling. She reaches out, her fingers grazing his sleeve in a desperate attempt to get his attention. “The trip was long. Just give her a minute, okay?”

He doesn't even look at her face. He glances down at Juliet’s hand on his arm with total disgust, as if a dirty insect had just landed on him. Without a word, he brushes her off, his eyes sliding right past her before settling on mine.

For a second, something I can't read passes through his dark charcoal eyes. Then he gives one short nod and walks back to his car.

Juliet watches him leave, her face glowing like she had just met her favorite movie star. An ugly feeling stirs inside me. Didn't she say she was deeply in love with her boyfriend? Yet here she was, smiling and flirting with another man. She wasn't defending me. She only wanted one more excuse to stay near Vincent.

She soon catches up, rolling her suitcase beside me. Even then, she keeps looking back at Vincent, her cheeks still pink lìke a girl with a silly crush.

“He's so handsome. He didn't deserve those cold looks from you, Angel,” she says.

I don't answer, and she quickly changes the subject.

“That beggar was so weird, right?” she says with a small laugh. “Wasn't that funny?” She slips her arm through mine as we walk through the beautiful school building. “A crazy man cutting his own hand for street drama. Bucharest, honestly.”

“It wasn't funny to me.”

She catches the look on my face, and her smile fades at once.

“Hey,” she says gently. “There are strange people everywhere, Angel. You'll get used to it. I promise it isn't always like this.”

I nod. I want to believe her. It was only a stunt... nothing more.

Juliet leads me to the administration building. The warm afternoon sun fills the courtyard as students laugh, chat, and walk past. Music blasts from loudspeakers. Many girls wear shorts, crop tops, and tiny skirts. Under a large tree, a couple kisses as if no one else exists. I quietly make the sign of the cross, ashamed for them.

A few boys whistle as we pass, while one girl stares at my veil like she's never seen one before. “Is that girl dressed like a nun?” She laughs.

Heat rushes to my cheeks, but Juliet only tightens her arm around mine and throws a sharp look over her shoulder. The laughter dies almost at once.

Juliet squeezes my arm gently. “Ignore them. You look cute.”  

Right then, I decided I liked her. Even if she seems far too eager around handsome men, she is the first friend I have ever chosen for myself instead of one chosen for me.

The dorm secretary is still laughing when we reach the front of the line.

“Room 307 is open,” she says, sliding two keys across the desk. “First years always get spooked by the seniors' stories. Ignore them.”

“What stories?” Juliet asks, her eyes lighting up. Obviously, Juliet isn't the type to leave a mystery alone.

“A suicide,” one boy behind us mutters.

“No, it was a fire,” the girl beside him says.

“I heard the room flooded. Someone said the ceiling even caved in,” another student adds.

Three stories. Three different disasters. None of them match.

The secretary rolls her eyes. “Rumors,” she says with a laugh. “Newbies love rumors. It's a perfectly good room. Now, who's going to be the lucky one?” She twirls a set of keys in the air with a grin. “Room 307. The last double room!”

Before anyone else could react, Juliet snatches the keys.

“Here, bestie. Looks like we're roommates now.” She beams at me, holding up the keys like a prize.

A few students groan and complain that she cheated, but we are already walking away. From the sound of it, they never wanted the room anyway.

I smile at Juliet, but the tight feeling in my chest stays. Everyone tells a different story about Room 307. Somehow, that scares me even more. It feels like the truth keeps changing every time someone speaks.

The dorm hallway smells of cheap cleaner and old paint. Our room is on the third floor. When we open the door, two girls are already lying on the beds like they own the place.

“Finally,” says the one filing her nails, without looking up. “We were starting to think we'd have the room to ourselves.”

“I'm Maya.” The second girl swings her legs off the bed and looks me up and down, slow, the way you'd examine a strange bug. “Psychology major. And you're… wow. Okay. That's a whole new look.”

“Angel.” I keep my voice gentle. “It's nice to meet you both.”

“Bianca,” says the girl filing her nails, finally looking up. I notice her sharp eyeliner, glossy lips, and three colorful shopping bags piled neatly at her feet. “Fashion freak. And I don't repeat outfits.”

Her eyes stop on my veil. A cold look flashes across her face, then disappears. Without a word, she goes back to filing her nails, like I've already stopped being interesting.

Juliet, of course, can't stay quiet for long. “Okay, but can we talk about your bag, Bianca? It's so pretty. Is that the new—”

“You have good taste,” Bianca says, warming instantly to Juliet in a way she clearly does not intend to extend to me.

Maya, who is sprawled across the bed, lying upside down with her legs kicked up against the wall, engrossed in a book, flips a page; a vivid, explicit illustration of a naked couple locked in an intimate position is revealed.

“Hope you love fùcking too?” Maya asks, glancing at Juliet with a wicked, knowing smile. “I’m reading about sex. Don’t look so shocked.”

The conversation drifted for nearly half an hour, filling the room with the mindless chatter of teenage girls. They gossip about tight clothes, hot boys, and the party happening this Friday. I stay quiet, sitting on the edge of my new bed, slowly packing my Bible from my bag.

Suddenly, Maya’s eyes locked onto me. Her expression shifts from playful to pure judgment. “Oh, you don't just wear this?” she asks, pointing at my habit outfit with a look of genuine disgust. “You’re the religious one. Wait... a nun? You mean you’ve never actually had sex?!”

She screams the last part, her voice echoing in the room as if my virginity is some kind of scandalous tragedy.

Bianca lets out a long, bored sigh. “Pretense. Church girls are the worst. They act all pure while they're dying to get fûcked.”

Juliet quickly steps in front of me, trying to shield me from their gaze. “Come on, Bianca, Maya. It’s her choice. You can’t talk to her like that.”

“Babe,” Maya grins, chewing a piece of gum loudly. “God isn't real. Only TikTok is real.”

Bianca bursts out laughing. Juliet joins in, though her laugh is weak and hesitant. She catches a glimpse of my face and stops abruptly, the silence suddenly heavy.

I don't answer. I can feel the heat rising in my chest, a prickle of rage that threatens to boil over. But I've been taught that anger is a sin—a poison that must be swallowed before it reaches the throat. So, I swallow it. I close my eyes and start praying silently, trying to find peace in the middle of their mockery.

Then, without warning, Maya reaches over. Her fingers snag the fabric of my veil, and she yanks it clean off my head with a sharp tug.

“You'll never get a boyfriend looking like this,” she sneers, tossing the veil onto the floor like it was nothing more than a used, dirty napkin.

The room goes quiet for one breath. I bend down, pick the veil up off the tile, press it once to my lips, and settle it back over my hair.

“Anyway,” Maya says, her interest in me vanishing as quickly as it appeared. She’s already bored, diving back into her suitcase with a chaotic energy. “Who wants tips for surviving your first university hookup?”

Maya digs into her bag and pulls out a tiny pair of lace panties. She waves them in the air like a trophy. I keep my eyes fixed ahead, refusing to look, but I hear Juliet burst into loud laughter.

Bianca grabs the panties. “Way too small!” she says, then tosses them across the room as a joke. They float through the air and land right on my shoulder.

I freeze. Juliet quickly snatches them away and throws them back, but she misses. The lace catches on the ceiling fan, and a second later, the panties are spinning around and around for everyone to see.

The three of them burst into shrieks of laughter, pointing up at the spinning piece of lingerie as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

I don't laugh. I only look up at that stupid spinning fan and wonder, quietly, desperately: Lord, why did you bring me here?

Then someone knocks.

Three times. Sharp. Even. Like a clock keeping perfect time. The laughter dies at once. We all freeze for a second before rushing to the door together. The hallway is empty. Not even the sound of footsteps fading away.

Maya shrugs. “The walls are thin here. It's probably someone next door.”

Everyone goes back to unpacking like nothing happened. Juliet talks the whole time we're settling in. She seems scared of silence.

“Okay, we need rules. No boys after ten. No food on the beds. No fighting with each other. And one party every weekend.”

Maya smiles. “I'm all in.”

Bianca laughs. “I'll try not to fight.”

Juliet looks at me when she notices I've been quiet. “And Angel, you have to come with us tonight. We're going exploring.”

“Go without me. I have to pray,” I say.

“You're too boring,” Bianca says with a grin. She pulls the door open, and warm voices and footsteps fill the bright hallway before the door shuts behind them.

They leave to explore the campus, but I stay behind.

The room is quiet now. Too quiet, and I need something to keep my mind busy, so I sit cross-legged on my bed with my diary resting on my knees. I write about all the beautiful things I saw today, then end the page the way I always do.

Day 1. God, Keep Me Safe. Amen.

I close the diary. The moment it shuts, it flips open again by itself. The pages flutter as if someone has gently blown on them. A cool breeze brushes my skin, carrying the faint smell of old paper and polished wood. I look down, and my handwriting is gone. Every single word. The pages are blank, clean and white like fresh snow. My heart skips a beat. Then, slowly, the words spread back across the page, one line after another, exactly as I wrote them.

I press a hand against my chest and let out a weak, shaky laugh. “Just the wind. Just tired eyes. Angel, get a grip.”

I place the diary on the desk, where the warm yellow light from the lamp falls across its cover, then lie down for a short nap before the others come back.

I wake to the sound of knocking. The door opens, and Juliet and the girls walk in, laughing as their voices fill the room. I quickly check the time. It's already past 9 p.m.

Wait... when did I fall asleep?

I must have been more tired than I thought.

Bianca rolls her eyes at me. She smells of fresh coffee mixed with sweet perfume as she drops her bag onto the bed.

“You should've seen what you missed,” she says with a grin. “Loosen up, Angel. Your parents aren't here.”

Heat rushes to my face as I stand. “That's enough, Bianca.”

She blinks. “You're serious?”

“Very. Don't make fun of my choice.”

“I'm not. I just think you should enjoy life.”

I shake my head.

“I've chosen to be a nun. I've taken my first vows, and nothing will pull me away from God. People in Ashbrook believe in me. They call me the saint of Ashbrook. I won't let them down.”

Silence fills the room.

I rarely raise my voice, but saying those words lifts a weight off my heart.

Blessed Mother Mary, help me stay faithful.

I turn to my desk, reaching for my diary so I can put it away first.

It isn't there.

I search the bed, the floor, under the pillow, my chest going tighter with every empty space my hands find—until I open my suitcase and there it is, sitting neatly on top of my folded clothes, the little brass lock clicked shut. I never locked that suitcase. I never put my diary inside it.

“Something isn't right with this room,” I said, turning to my roommates. They all looked at me. “Believe me. I left it on top of the desk.”

“You're being dramatic,” Maya said with a glare.

Juliet walked over and gently rubbed my back. “I think you're just stressed, bestie. Go take a shower. You'll feel better.”

I nodded. Maybe she was right.

Without another word, I hurried into the bathroom. The white tiles felt cold under my feet, and the warm water washed away some of my fear. The air smelled of soap and fresh shampoo. For a few minutes, everything felt normal.

Then a plastic cup on the sink shelf tipped over by itself and crashed into the basin.

I froze.

The light above me flickered once... twice... then stayed on.

“It's just old wiring,” I whispered, trying to calm myself.

I splashed water on my face, took a deep breath, and looked into the mirror. My reflection was still washing her face.

My hands hung still at my sides, water dripping from my fingers.

Five long seconds passed, but the girl in the mirror kept rubbing her face slowly, over and over, like she had all the time in the world.

Then she stopped.

She looked straight at me and smiled. In the next second, the mirror was normal again.

I grabbed the sink so hard my fingers hurt. My chest rose and fell as I whispered every prayer I could remember. Then I heard my own voice. It was coming from inside the wall beside the mirror. Before I knew what I was doing, I pressed my ear against the cold tile. A soft whisper slipped through the wall.

“ANGEL... HE'S DYING. SAVE HIM.”

I screamed.

One second I was in the bathroom, the next I was standing in the room with my towel loosely tied, almost falling off. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

The girls came running.

“Holy cr@p, what now?!” Bianca scolds me, annoyed.

“I... I heard someone.” My voice shook. " Inside the wall. It sounded like me.”

They looked at each other.

“Maybe God's finally talking to you,” Maya said with a mocking laugh before turning back to her bed.

Juliet stayed a little longer. Worry flashed across her face before she covered it with a small smile.

“You're probably exhausted,” she said softly. “New city. New school. New everything. Your brain is just playing tricks on you.”

She sounded like she believed it.

I wanted to believe it too. Because believing that was much easier than admitting the voice inside the wall had been mine.

We said goodnight.

Within minutes, Maya's soft snores filled the room. Still, I couldn't sleep. I lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, breathing in the faint smell of old paint and damp wood. I kept telling myself the worst was over.

I was wrong.

At exactly 12:00 a.m...

Something scratched inside the wall beside my bed slowly.

Scratch...

Scratch...

Scratch...

Like long fingernails dragging through brick.

I shot upright, my heart slamming against my chest.

Then my diary flipped open on the desk by itself. The pages glowed with a faint silver light that filled the dark room. Slowly, I got out of bed and tiptoed toward it. I hadn't touched the diary, yet fresh words crawled across the page in thick red ink, writing themselves.

I REMEMBER YOU. GO THROUGH THE WALLS AND SAVE HIM.

My breath caught.

The wallpaper beside my bed peeled back on its own. Behind it wasn't a wall. It was a mountain beneath a black sky which stretched above white peaks. A full moon poured silver light over endless snow.

It was impossible.

Yet it was there.

A cold wind rushed through the opening. Snow drifted into the room, soft white flakes floating through the crack before landing on my blanket.

Juliet stirred in her bed as a snowflake landed on her hand. She frowned.

“So cold. Did someone leave the window open?” she mumbled sleepily.

The snowflake melted.

She rolled over and went right back to sleep.

Another snowflake floated toward me, landing gently on my palm. It didn't melt. I stared at it, tears filling my eyes before I even knew why.

“No…” I whispered. “Juliet!”

I grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard.

“Wake up! Please, wake up!”

She didn't move.

“Bianca! Maya!” I pounded on their headboard.

Nothing.

My breathing turned wild. I grabbed a chair and threw it across the room. It crashed against the wall with a loud bang.

Still...

No one woke up. Not even a twitch. The room had become as still as an old photograph. And I was the only living thing left moving inside it.

I lunged for the door, whispering every prayer I had ever memorized in one desperate, shaking breath. Until suddenly, a hand made of blood and frost burst through the wall. Its icy fingers locked around my ankle.

I screamed and tried to pull back, but it pulled harder. The wall swallowed my arm... then my shoulder... then all of me. The room tore apart like wet paper as I fell through freezing wind and blinding white light, screaming until my voice gave out.

Then I hit the ground. Hard.

I landed on my knees in deep snow, gasping for air beneath a black sky. Above me hung a huge full moon, pouring cold silver light over everything.

I looked around.

Bucharest was gone. My university. My dorm. Juliet. Maya. Bianca.

All gone.

In front of me stood towering castles of black stone and blue glass. Frozen mountains rose so high they disappeared into the clouds, as if time had stopped long ago. As if every myth I had ever read was real.

My heart pounded. “Where... am I?”

Was this a dream?

Had I died after crashing into the wall?

Was this the afterlife?

Then I looked down. A dark shadow stretched across the white snow. I let out a shaky breath, the cold air stinging my nose, as I pressed my hands against my chest.

“Thank goodness you're alive, Angel.”

But something was wrong—the moon was behind me, yet my shadow stretched toward it. It pointed in the completely wrong direction. A chill ran down my back. I was alive, but I wasn't home.

I was very... very far from home.