Episode 2: The Room That Watches
The morning sun streamed through the wide glass window, but it didn't bring warmth. Amara sat at the edge of the soft bed, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. No one had come to check on her.
Until now.
The same woman from before returned, holding folded clothes and a tray of food.
"Eat," she said flatly.
"Please," Amara asked, "when will I start tutoring? Or meet the host family?"
The woman didn't answer. She dropped the clothes on the bed and walked out.
The tray smelled good—rice and soup—but Amara's stomach twisted too tight to eat.
Something was wrong. But she didn't know what, or why.
---
Later that day, Amara was allowed to explore—but only the East Wing.
A guard stood at one hallway with arms crossed. She smiled nervously at him. He didn't blink.
The hallways were silent, clean, and too perfect. No family photos. No signs of children. Just cold, polished floors and heavy doors that looked too expensive to touch.
Then she saw it.
A gray door—taller, thicker than the others. Locked tight. A security keypad flashed red beside it.
There was a tiny gold plate above it that simply said:
"13."
Just 13. No name. No description.
But the way it stood there... like it was watching her.
She stepped closer, her hand almost reaching out—
"Don't touch that."
She jumped.
A boy stood behind her. Not much older. Pale skin. Dark hair. A small scar near his temple.
"Sorry," Amara said. "I just… I thought it was a library or something."
The boy stared at her for a moment, then looked toward the door.
"That's not a room you want to open," he said. "Even the air around it lies."
He turned and walked away before she could ask his name.
---
That night, Amara dreamed of the door.
It stood in front of her, wide open. A low humming sound came from inside.
She stepped in—
And something whispered her name.
She woke up drenched in sweat.
From the hallway, a sound echoed softly:
A soft click, like a lock… turning.
Was someone opening Room 13?
Or… was it waiting for her?