It had been three days since Papa left.
My room was slowly turning into my space — books lined neatly on the shelf, fairy lights hanging by the bed, and my favorite cushion on the chair by the window.
Classes had started. The university was lively — too lively, honestly. I found myself slipping into the background, just like I preferred. Quietly attending lectures, scribbling notes, and returning straight to the PG.
Tanya messaged once or twice, checking in. We had lunch together once, but mostly, I kept to myself. I didn't mind. The PG felt like a soft bubble, separating me from the noise of the world.
There were only two other girls living on my floor, but I hadn't seen them properly yet — just passing glances and polite smiles. I liked that. Less talking, more breathing space.
It was a Thursday night.
Rain had started tapping against the window — light, rhythmic, almost soothing. I lay on my bed, reading, wrapped in a thin blanket. The cook had served dinner early that day, and I was too full to move.
Everything felt still. Peaceful.
Until it happened.
A sharp click echoed through the hallway outside.
I sat up.
It sounded like a door — or maybe a window? It wasn't loud… but clear enough in the silence.
Then, a soft dragging sound followed. Like something being pulled across the floor.
I held my breath, listening carefully.
Nothing.
A few seconds later, a whisper — or what sounded like one — came from the hallway.
I froze.
I wasn't the type to jump at shadows. But I also didn't want to be the type who ignored warning signs in horror movies. My heart was suddenly racing, and I found myself clutching my blanket like it was armor.
I slowly got up and tiptoed toward the door.
There was a peephole, but nothing to see — the hallway light was too dim. I stood there, listening.
Silence.
Then, footsteps — soft and slow — passed my door. One… two… three…
And then… gone.
I waited a full minute before slowly turning the lock and opening the door just a crack.
The hallway was empty.
No footsteps. No whisper. No sign of movement.
I stepped out and looked around.
The doors to the other two rooms were closed. The light at the end of the hall flickered slightly. Rain still tapped against the windows. Everything looked normal… but didn't feel normal.
I quickly went back inside, locked the door, and turned on all the lights.
Maybe I imagined it? Maybe the rain played tricks with the sound?
But I knew what I heard.
And I wasn't imagining the unease crawling under my skin.
The next morning, I asked the cook casually, "Do the other girls stay up late?"
He looked up from the stove. "Not really, beta. They're both in the library most nights. One comes back around 10. The other usually sleeps early."
I nodded, pretending not to care.
But in my mind, the question echoed:
If they weren't here last night… then who was in the hallway?