Chapter 11

The night was dead of any human activities. Cold to the skin and wicket to the soul.

Nora, as per her stepmother's new regulation, strode down to the tap as early as 1 a.m, when both good and evil spirits of the dead roamed.

Her mother had always warned her not to lurk around from the late hours of eleven pm, for that was the hours of the spirits; they mingled amongst the living in search of slaves, expectant mothers to birth them once again, wives, husbands and so much more. However, Nora never did believe in those myths even as the little girl she was.

Nora settled her bucket below the flowing tap and did nothing but wait, watch, and feel. The latter which she struggled to escape from by rubbing her exposed arms, fighting to generate the tiniest heat possible from the cold bites.

Inquisitiveness getting a fraction of her, she lifted her eyes to the balcony of the hotel as she had been doing for the past two days and as thought, the result was still the same.

For God's sake, what