Two weeks had passed since Susan moved into the boarding house, and so far, everything had gone smoothly. She hadn't experienced anything strange at all. The ghost stories Cynthia told her had slowly faded to the back of her mind, buried under the growing demands of campus life.
Unlike many students who balanced classes with hanging out, dating, or exploring the city, Susan stayed laser-focused on her studies. She knew her future depended on her grades. As an only child without a father, she understood that once she graduated, she would be the only one supporting her family. That responsibility kept her grounded. She avoided anything unnecessary outside of class as much as possible.
That afternoon, her last lecture finished around 4 p.m. Instead of going straight home, she walked in the opposite direction, heading toward a nearby minimarket to buy some essentials and grab dinner to-go.
Inside the store, Susan moved through the aisles, placing items carefully into her shopping cart until it was almost full.
Hmm… what else do I need? she wondered, mentally going through her list.
Then it hit her—instant noodles.
Her eyes scanned the aisle signs, searching. The boarding house had a small communal kitchen for simple cooking, and for students like Susan, instant noodles were the holy grail—especially at the end of the month, when money was tight and the next allowance transfer hadn't arrived yet.
I think the noodle rack is over there, she thought, picking up her pace.
Just as she was about to turn into the aisle, two people suddenly stepped out from the other side. She nearly crashed into them.
"Huuuh—!" Susan gasped as she stopped herself just in time.
Her eyes widened a little when she recognized one of them.
Lydia.
The so-called freak who lived next door.
Lydia didn't react much. She gave a tiny, polite nod, then simply stepped aside and walked past her. Another girl followed right behind Lydia.
Wow. So friendly, Susan rolled her eyes internally.
As they moved away, Susan overheard the girl whispering, "Who was that, Ly?"
"New boarding student," Lydia replied curtly.
"Oh." The girl slowed down, glancing over her shoulder at Susan. "Which room does she live in? How does she even know you?"
Her voice carried genuine curiosity—because everyone knew Lydia never bothered to know anyone in the house. The fact that this new girl recognized her was… unusual.
"Room 9," Lydia muttered as she grabbed a jar of jam and dropped it into her basket.
The girl suddenly froze. "Huh… isn't that—"
Before she could finish, Lydia stiffened. Her face went tense, her shoulders tightening as if she'd seen something horrifying.
Without saying a word, she placed her shopping basket on the nearest rack—abandoning everything she had picked up.
"Let's go. Now." Her voice was low and urgent.
The girl looked confused. "Huh? Why? You're not buying anything?"
"We'll come back tomorrow," Lydia snapped, giving her a quick, subtle nod—a signal.
The girl followed Lydia's line of sight.
At the far end of the aisle stood a petite woman with curly hair, casually scanning the products on the shelf.
The moment the girl recognized the woman, her face twisted with disgust.
"That bitch…" she muttered under her breath.
Lydia didn't reply. Instead, she grabbed the girl's wrist and tugged her toward the exit, keeping her head low as they hurried out.
Because the petite curly-haired woman wasn't just some stranger.
She was Lydia's former best friend.
Someone she had once been inseparable from.
Someone who used to live in the same boarding house as Susan.
And the reason Lydia no longer wanted anything to do with the people who lived there.