I reached the panel to my room, crawled out, closed it, and pushed the wardrobe against the wall….-HONGNGOC

That night, when Daniel handed me the cup, I was ready.

I smiled as always, nodded as always, and brought the rim of the cup to my lips as always… but instead of swallowing, I let the liquid rest on the tip of my tongue.

Bitter.

Metallic.

Nothing like valerian.

“Drink it slowly,” Daniel said, leaning against the doorframe with that calm expression that lately had started to terrify me. “It’ll help.”

I performed the entire act: a few fake sips, a sigh, eyelids pretending to grow heavy. Then, when he briefly glanced toward the hallway, I carefully tilted the cup and poured the tea into the dry potted plant in the corner, behind the curtain.

“Good night, Dani,” I whispered, lowering my voice a little.

He smiled.

“Good night, little sister.”

I heard his footsteps moving away.

Slow.

Unhurried.

As if he knew exactly what time everything was supposed to happen.

I waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

I stayed completely still, controlling my breathing, until the silence began to feel “safe”… though in that house nothing was truly safe; it only pretended to be.

Exactly at nine o’clock, as if the clock itself were an accomplice, I heard the first creak in the hallway.

Then another.

Footsteps. Daniel was coming.

I lay on my side in bed, as always. I let one arm hang slightly off the mattress, as if I were asleep. I opened my eyes just a sliver.

My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it.

The door opened without anyone pushing it. Daniel had left it ajar earlier, and now he slipped inside.

He wasn’t carrying the cup.