Callum slumps into a chair, leaving a seat between us.
“Most of the time, when I see clients off like this… it feels frustrating. There’s no closure for the victim. People move on with their lives, and more often than not, the perpetrators face no real consequences. It makes me angry," he says, his voice heavy with resignation. "It was a short meeting. But what did you think, Xiao Li, about your first case?”
“It’s… sad… and exhausting. I need a two-day break. I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”
It’s been around four hours since we left QED. I glance up, noticing the bright sunlight still streaming through the lobby ceiling.
“Is it always daytime here? I thought it’d be afternoon by now.” I turn to Callum, puzzled.
“I have a theory about this place,” he says, leaning back. “Every time I’m here, it never turns to night, and it never rains. I’m guessing since this is the afterlife, the usual rules of weather don’t apply.”
“Is there an entrance or exit? I want to see what’s outside this place.”
Callum chuckles. “I’ve been searching for one for two years. All I’ve found are doors leading to storage rooms.”
“Well, that’s… disappointing,” I sigh. “But I’d really love to visit the real world again. I just realized I never traveled anywhere except Guangzhou when I was alive.”
“If you could go anywhere for dinner, where would it be?” Callum asks, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t have any money, though.”
“Ah, about that…” Callum lifts his ID card. “Every time you complete a case or join as a newbie, points get added to your account. Points are our currency here—and in the real world. You can use your ID or your phone to pay. If you check your phone, you might already have some money.”
I pull out my phone and find a new app on it. “Oh, yeah. This app just appeared. It says ‘QED’.” I tap it open, and the home screen displays: Wallet: 100 points. Callum leans over, peeking at my screen.
“Looks right. I got 70 points after my first case. Your starting balance is 30 points.”
“You’re saying I can use this in the real world? How does that even work?”
“Your points convert to real-world currency once you use them outside QED. One point is roughly equal to a little less than a pound, I think.”
“Wow, that’s quite a lot for just one case.”
“The pay in this division is pretty good. You earn around 40,000 points annually, mainly because our cases are tougher and… more disturbing.”
“Hearing that makes me feel a lot better. I can finally eat in peace without stressing over money.”
“So, what do you feel like eating? I’ll treat you—since you’re new and all.”
“I don’t know… but I’ve been craving Korean barbecue for a while n—”
Before I can finish, a sharp slap lands on the back of my head, jolting me forward. I wince, stunned by the sudden sting.
“I was eavesdropping, so why don’t we all go eat dinner together?” a familiar voice chirps behind me. “It’s 10:42 p.m. in Korea right now! Let’s get some Korean barbecue, guys! We have to celebrate Xiao Li joining the team!”
Reina grins at me, completely unfazed by the throbbing pain she’s just caused. Seo-Jun, standing beside her, playfully nudges her shoulder in protest.
“Sasaki, I know you’re excited to finally have a new co-worker you’re interested in, but please don’t hurt her,” Callum said, his voice carrying a hint of warning.
I whipped around, glaring at the trio. “Don’t hit my head like that! I’m seriously going to punch you if you do it again!”
“Hehe, sorry about that,” Sasaki said, not looking sorry at all. “I was just so happy when I heard you were going to be working here from now on. Nice suit, by the way! It looks pretty neat on you!”
I squinted at them, still trying to make sense of everything. “How did you guys even know I was going to be working here?”
“Well,” Sasaki grinned, pointing a thumb at Callum, “a little white dove here told us. He’s our friend too, y’know!”
I raised an eyebrow at Callum. “You know these two?”
“We pretty much joined QED at the same time, so we naturally became friends. Anyway, wanna join us for dinner? It’s your call,” he said, flashing an easy smile.
I stood up, glancing between them. “Do I have to pay for anything?”
Seo-Jun tugged Sasaki closer, pointing at her dramatically. “Sasaki’s paying today.”
“Hey, I said I was treating!” Callum protested.
“She’s loaded with points because she’s been making me do cases non-stop. She says she’s bored. Let her pay, please.” Seo-Jun patted Sasaki’s shoulder and smirked. “Right, grandma?”
With a swift jab, Sasaki’s fist landed in Seo-Jun’s stomach, and he crumpled, clutching his gut. “Shut it, brat! I told you to call me Sasaki Reina-senpai! And I’m not that old!”
I blinked, trying to piece this all together. Sasaki looked so young. There was no way she was older than Seo-Jun… right?
“Wait, so how old are you, exactly… Reina-san?”
She turned to me with a bright smile. “You can just call me Sasaki. No need for honorifics, except for this idiot—he doesn’t respect his elders.” She pointed at Seo-Jun, who was still smirking despite the pain. “You’re 26, right? That makes me your senior, too!”
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re older than her…” Seo-Jun mumbled, reconsidering what to call her.
Sasaki swung her leg, lightly kicking Seo-Jun’s shins, but he managed to stay upright. It was clear this kind of back-and-forth was normal for them.
“Don’t listen to this brat,” she continued. “My age is a secret, but Seo-Jun was only 21 when he died, so he’s technically 23 now. Compared to everyone else, he’s just an annoying kid, right, Seo-Jun?”
Seo-Jun’s grin turned mischievous. “Well, at least I’m not a grandma hitting her thirtie—”
Before he could finish, Sasaki slapped a hand over his mouth. Things were about to escalate when Callum stepped between them, his arms crossed, his foot tapping the floor.
“Would you two please behave?” he said, voice firm but calm. “I’m pretty sure you’re both sensible people. Why don’t you settle this like adults?”
I couldn’t see his expression from where I stood behind him, but the shift in his tone was enough to make both of them freeze. Sasaki coughed, regaining her composure, and let go of Seo-Jun.
“You’re right. My bad,” she said, smoothing her hair down.
“I’m very sorry,” Seo-Jun added, bowing slightly.
“You both need to set a good example for our newbie Xiao Li, okay?” Callum said, his tone softening, yet still holding an edge.
For some reason, it felt like a mother scolding her kids.
“Understood.” “Yes, I agree!” Sasaki and Seo-Jun replied in unison, their voices surprisingly meek.
I scratched my head, still trying to digest the odd dynamic. “Hey, how about we go out and eat already? I’m starving. I don’t really mind your age or anything.”
Sasaki lights up as I said this. She walks beside me and responds. “Okay lets go then!”
We walked toward the elevator, heading back to the real world. Sasaki, however, veered past the usual elevator and approached one guarded by a gate with a passport scanner.
Callum glanced back at me and said, “Ah, but before that, we need to get your fake passport and ID. You can’t go back to the land of the living without them.”
“Oh, right! I almost forgot about that,” Sasaki replied.
“Huh? Why do I need a passport? Aren’t I already dead? Plus, people can’t see us anyway,” I protested.
Seo-Jun placed his hand on his hip as he explained, “You see, Xiao Li, when we go out to eat, buy essentials, or do anything else, you need a fake identity. We can’t go back to the real world using the same name and face as dead people.”
“I thought you said people couldn’t see us,” I replied, still confused.
“Well, when we want to be seen, we use our IDs! All you have to do is scan it on the machine beside the elevator, and tada! You’ll be visible to the living. No one will recognize you, though!” Sasaki grinned.
“I think I remember where that department is. Follow me,” Seo-Jun said, gesturing for us to follow him. We turned and walked in the opposite direction of the waiting area.
After a minute, we arrived at a door labeled “Identity Information Services.” Seo-Jun pushed it open, revealing a large office filled with cubicles. Employees were typing away, engrossed in their screens. The atmosphere felt like a bustling service center.
Seo-Jun walked to a nearby desk and leaned against the ledge of a cubicle. Inside sat a man with glasses and curly hair, furiously clicking his mouse while staring intently at his computer. Dark circles under his eyes hinted that he hadn’t slept in days. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice Seo-Jun’s presence.
Seo-Jun knocked on the side of the cubicle, causing the man to jump and fall out of his chair. Sasaki bit her lip, struggling not to laugh.
“What the hell?!” the man exclaimed, regaining his balance.
“What’s up, Ji-ho!” Seo-Jun said, a playful grin on his face.
Ji-ho slowly crawled back into his chair, glaring at Seo-Jun. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. I’m pretty sure you’re just here to ask me to do something again, right? I can tell because you brought your friends.”
Seo-Jun leaned in, placing his chin on his hand. “Well, it’s great that I don’t have to explain. Can you get my friend’s passport here ASAP? I’m sure you can do that in under ten minutes.”
Ji-ho stared at him, perplexed. “No way. Just do the application online and wait for it to get printed like everyone else. It takes a week to arrive anyway.”
I hesitated, glancing at Seo-Jun. “Yeah, I think he’s right. I don’t feel comfortable asking him to do all of this.”
Sasaki turned to me, her expression reassuring. “Don’t worry about it, Xiao Li. Just watch. He did this for me too.”
Seo-Jun leaned closer to Ji-ho, peering at his computer screen. “That seems hard. What are you even editing?”
Ji-ho sighed, continuing to type. “Well, you know how when people die, they see a flashback of their lives all at once? I’m editing some grandpa’s vision of that before he kicks the bucket in, like, two hours.”
“You guys do that?” Callum asked, surprise evident in his voice.
“Well, yeah. My division handles that along with passports and IDs. I didn’t want to become a reaper, so I volunteered for this instead. I want to be rich in my next life, even though I’ve got a blue box, so I’m working for it,” Ji-ho explained, readjusting his glasses.
“That’s really admirable. I didn’t know you could do that,” Callum said, leaning in to get a better look at Ji-ho’s screen. I followed suit.
“You’ve got a blue box too, right? Seo-Jun told me. You’ve done so much work you could become a billionaire once you reincarnate. Why are you still a reaper?” Ji-ho asked, glancing at Callum’s ID.
“Hmmm, well… that’s a secret,” Callum replied, his gaze drifting to me. As soon as our eyes met, I looked away.
“Stop changing the topic and process her passport already,” Seo-Jun insisted, stepping into the cubicle and kneeling beside Ji-ho’s chair. “Please?”
“You know you don’t have to do all this for me. I can wait a week,” I interjected.
“What’s in it for me?” Ji-ho asked.
“I’ll treat you to a free dinner with soju. Unlimited alcohol, too,” Seo-Jun offered.
At the mention of free food and drinks, Ji-ho’s eyes lit up with glee as if he became a completely different person and he grabbed Seo-Jun’s hand enthusiastically.
“I’ll get it done in ten minutes!” Ji-ho exclaimed, suddenly energized.
“I’m glad you understand!” Seo-Jun replied with a satisfied grin.
True to his word, ten minutes later, Ji-ho handed me a passport and driver’s license.
“Well, now that’s done. I’m getting back to work,” Ji-ho said, pointing a finger at Seo-Jun as he walked away. “You better keep your promise.”
“Roger that,” Seo-Jun replied, a smirk on his face.
I opened my passport and was startled to find that my face and name were different. The photo showed a petite woman in her late twenties with brown wavy hair, and the name read “Chen Liyuan.”
“Wow, this person is pretty. Is this supposed to be me?” I asked, incredulous.
Sasaki stared at the passport and then back at my face in disbelief. “Huh? No way! You must be joking. This woman looks average compared to you!”
“Really?” I replied, slightly taken aback.
“I agree,” Seo-Jun chimed in, nodding.
Callum leaned in, still maintaining a respectful distance, to examine my passport and ID. He scrutinized my face, his brows furrowing in thought. “Yeah, she’s right. This ‘Liyuan’ person looks cute, but I prefer more mature-looking women. Like you.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Ah… thanks. I honestly don’t know how to feel about that,” I said, leaning back a bit in embarrassment. I tucked the passport and ID into my body bag.
We walked back toward the elevator, scanning our passports at the machine beside the entrance. It worked like the passport scanners you’d find at airports. As soon as I scanned my passport, the gate opened, and I waited for the others to finish.
The elevator doors slid open, and we all stepped inside, ready to head back to the world of the living.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the polished marble floors and soft lighting of a luxurious hotel lobby. As we stepped out, the cool night air greeted us, and it took me a moment to realize we were in Korea. Neon street signs glowed in the dark, and the hum of the city at 11:16 p.m. was alive with the sounds of laughter, sizzling food, and clinking glasses. People crowded small, makeshift tables on the sidewalks, drinking and feasting beneath the moonlit sky.
“Ah, I recognize this street,” Sasaki said, striding beside Seo-Jun. “So, we’re going to Miss Kim’s place again, huh?”
“Miss Kim?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, she’s just this old lady I visit sometimes. She runs a little Korean barbeque joint and treats me to free food now and then,” Seo-Jun replied casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Sasaki let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, but Miss Kim only gives him free food. I asked once why she was so generous, and all she could say was ‘because he—good face,’ in her broken English. I was so mad. This idiot’s got pretty boy privilege.”
“She doesn’t mind giving you free meals like that?” Callum asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. “Won’t she lose money?”
“It’s an Asian grandma thing,” I said, laughing a little. “They tend to do that if they like you. Sometimes they even start seeing you as their own kid.” I could almost picture it, recalling a few similar encounters in my own life.
We climbed a narrow, creaky staircase in an old building, the hallway dimly lit and smelling faintly of grilled meat and soy sauce. At the end of the corridor, an open glass door led into a tiny, cozy restaurant.
“Well, whatever. Let’s just get in there and enjoy some free food, yeah?” Seo-Jun said with a grin, pushing the door open. The place was small, with only five tables crammed together, each with two chairs. The atmosphere was warm, homely, and for now, completely ours.
We took our seats at a long table, and Seo-Jun made a beeline for the kitchen. “Miss Kim! I brought some friends today!” he called, his voice echoing down the narrow room.
I could faintly hear the chatter of an elderly woman replying to him in Korean, but the words were lost on me. A moment later, Seo-Jun emerged, balancing trays stacked high with raw pork belly, beef, and all the necessary utensils. Right behind him, Miss Kim followed, carrying a tray of steaming rice in four neat metal containers.
“I’ll help,” Callum said, springing up to take the tray from her, making sure to keep a respectful distance. Miss Kim’s eyes widened as she took in his appearance, and she gasped.
“Why your hair white? You dye it?!” she asked, her English thick with a Korean accent. “Not good for natural hair, you know!”
“No, no!” Callum quickly reassured her, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s natural! I was born with it—it’s, uh, a genetic disorder.”
Miss Kim’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully before she nodded, her expression softening. “Aigoo, poor boy. But handsome! Good face,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before bustling back into the kitchen, leaving Callum standing there, a little stunned.
“She’s already taken a liking to you,” Sasaki teased, smirking. “Guess we’ll be getting even more free food now.”
Callum chuckled, shaking his head as he set the tray down on the table. “Well, I guess that’s… good? Though I’m still not sure how to feel about it.”
Seo-Jun was already at work, expertly placing the slices of meat onto the grill, the hot surface hissing as the pork began to sizzle and brown. The aroma of garlic and sesame oil filled the air, making my mouth water. As we sat there, surrounded by the warmth of the grill and the low murmur of conversation, I couldn’t help but feel like, just for tonight, we’d found a small pocket of normalcy in an otherwise strange and complicated world.
“Don’t be shy about eating. She’ll probably be back with even more side dishes in a few minutes.”
I look around the cozy little restaurant, feeling a bit more at ease now that we’re settled. The smell of grilling meat wafts through the air, mixing with the faint aroma of garlic and sesame oil. It feels warm and homey, a nice change from the sterile atmosphere of QED.
“Hey, I’m still curious,” I say, turning to Seo-Jun. “How did you even get to know Miss Kim?”
Seo-Jun shrugs as he flips the pork belly, making sure each piece gets a nice sear. “I just wandered in here one night when I was on a break, and she sort of took pity on me. I looked really tired, I guess. She gave me some food, we chatted a bit, and I just kept coming back. It’s kinda like I’ve been adopted by a random grandma now.”
Sasaki snorts. “Lucky you. I asked her for a free refill once, and she scolded me like I was trying to steal her whole restaurant.”
“Pretty boy privilege strikes again I see,” I tease, and Seo-Jun rolls his eyes but grins anyway.
Miss Kim comes back out of the kitchen, carrying a tray full of small plates with different side dishes—kimchi, pickled radish, bean sprouts, and more. She sets them down on the table with a bright smile, her gaze lingering on Seo-Jun. “Eat, eat! Good food, make strong! You eat well, yes?”
“Yes, thank you so much, Miss Kim,” Seo-Jun replies in fluent Korean, his tone respectful but easygoing. “We’ll enjoy the food.”
Miss Kim nods approvingly, then turns to the rest of us. “You friends, too. Eat much! No leave table until full!” She gives us a firm look, like a strict but loving grandmother, and I can’t help but smile.
As she heads back to the kitchen again, we start filling our plates, the atmosphere relaxing into a casual, friendly vibe. The food is delicious—perfectly grilled meat, fluffy rice, and the tangy, spicy side dishes that complete the experience. It feels almost surreal to be sitting here, sharing a meal with these people I’ve just met in such unusual circumstances, yet everything about it feels surprisingly normal.
“I gotta say, Seo-Jun,” I remark as I pick up a piece of pork belly with my chopsticks, “you sure know how to pick your spots.”
“Well, I’m glad you guys are enjoying it,” he replies, leaning back in his chair, satisfied. “Miss Kim’s place is the best. Plus, it’s not every day you get to hang out with good company, right?”
The conversation flows easily as we eat, jumping from lighthearted jokes to the other three sharing their experiences about working in the company. For a while, it feels like we’re just regular people, enjoying a late-night meal together, forgetting about everything else.
The meal was long and leisurely, filled with laughter, sizzling meat, and the gentle clink of chopsticks against metal bowls. By the time we left Miss Kim’s cozy restaurant, it was past midnight, and the streets had quieted down, leaving just the soft hum of distant traffic and a few murmured conversations from late-night strollers.
We walked back to the hotel, feeling pleasantly full and slightly drowsy. The neon signs that had blazed brightly earlier now flickered, casting sporadic bursts of light onto the pavement. Sasaki stretched her arms over her head, letting out a satisfied groan. “I’m so stuffed, I don’t think I can eat for a week.”
“Right,” Seo-Jun said, smirking. “Until tomorrow when you’re begging for tteokbokki.”
Sasaki opened her mouth to retort, but Callum quickly stepped between them. “We should get back to QED before it’s too late. The gates close after a certain time, don’t they?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sasaki rolled her eyes but started walking a little faster, making her way toward the hotel entrance.
We filed into the lobby, and the cool air-conditioning hit us, banishing the lingering warmth of the grill from our skin. It felt strange being back here after the easy comfort of the restaurant, like stepping out of a dream and into a harsher reality. We rode the elevator up in silence, the faint hum of the machinery the only sound, until the doors slid open to reveal a corridor that led to another elevator—a different one. The kind of elevator that didn’t just go up and down, but between realms.
Sasaki led the way, waving her ID card in front of a sleek scanner. The gate clicked open, and we stepped inside. The elevator was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the bright, bustling streets we had just left.
As the doors closed behind us, I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the shiny metal walls. It was strange to think that the face staring back at me wasn’t really mine, at least not in this world. The others looked the same in my vision, but in the reflection of the mirror stood 4 strangers. I touched my cheek absentmindedly, still trying to get used to the idea of a fake passport and ID.
“Hey, you okay?” Callum’s voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to find him watching me with a concerned expression, his usual easy going demeanor softened.
I smiled, a bit forced, but sincere. “Yeah, just… weird to think about. You know, the whole ‘dead but not really dead’ thing.”
“It takes some getting used to,” Seo-Jun said from the other side of the elevator, leaning back against the wall with his hands in his pockets. “But you’ll get there. We all did.”
The elevator began to move, and I felt a strange sensation, like the ground was shifting beneath my feet. It wasn’t like a regular elevator ride. Instead of just going up or down, it felt like we were being pulled through something thicker, almost like swimming through syrup. The air seemed to hum around us, charged with an invisible energy, and I couldn’t help but hold my breath until the sensation passed.
When the doors finally opened, we were back in QED. The stark, pristine hallways stretched out before us, as if we had never left. The quiet was a little unnerving after the noise and life of the streets above. It felt as though the place was watching us, waiting for us to get back to work.
"Well, I guess it's time to call it a night. Let's head back to our apartments, shall we?" Callum said, pulling out his tablet and typing something into it.
I glanced up at the ceiling, noticing the sky overhead was still bright and blue, as if it were the middle of the day. "But... it's still daytime."
"The concept of 'time' doesn't really exist here," Sasaki explained, rubbing her eyes as she stared at the sky visible through the windows above. "Once you start feeling sleepy, that's your cue to head home. QED runs 24/7. There are always other reapers on duty, even when we're asleep."
We made our way down the narrow hallway, our footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor. Callum led the way, his tablet in hand, while Sasaki and I trailed behind, with Seo-Jun keeping pace beside me. The bright overhead lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a cozy atmosphere.
As we approached the elevator, I felt a mix of anticipation and fatigue wash over me. Callum pressed the button, and the doors slid open with a soft chime. Inside, the elevator was adorned with sleek panels of brushed metal and smooth, dark wood. A gentle hum filled the space as it began its ascent.
When the doors opened again, we stepped into a hotel room lobby, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. A few potted plants decorated the corners, and warm lighting created an inviting ambiance.
“This place is pretty nice,” I remarked, glancing around.
“Welcome to our little slice of heaven,” Callum said, smiling as he pocketed his tablet. “It's like a comfort zone for reapers. You can unwind here before you head back to do your cases.”
Sasaki stretched her arms overhead, rubbing her eyes. “Just so you know what is inside this hotel aren’t just regular hotel rooms!”
Seo-Jun chimed in, “Apparently, these rooms are exact replicas of our own apartments or houses from when we were alive. Just take another elevator from this lobby, and you’ll be right there.”
Callum pulled out his tablet and turned it toward me. The center of the screen displayed his room number and the floor he was assigned to. “By the way, I’m on floor 26, room 14. Since we’re partners, I’m guessing they assigned you to the same floor. Just check your tablet.”
I retrieved my tablet from my bag and opened the same tab Callum had shown me. “Oh, I’m also on floor 26. Room 15, actually. We’re right next to each other, then?”
“Looks like it!” Callum grinned.
Sasaki, standing a little further back, raised an eyebrow. “So that means you’ll have to deal with each other’s noise. Good luck!”
Seo-Jun shrugged, “You know Xiao Li’s not one for noise. I doubt she’ll be the problem.”
I offered a slight nod, the corners of my mouth twitching upward. “I can assure you, noise won’t be an issue.”
“See?” Seo-Jun said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Xiao Li is a model neighbor. Unlike Callum who blasts music so much that you can hear it from outside.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Callum replied, his tone dry as the group chuckled.
Seo-Jun clapped his hands together, a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. “Alright! Let’s head to our rooms and settle in.”
As we made our way to the elevator, Seo-Jun and Sasaki took the lead, engaging in their usual banter while Callum and I exchanged glances, a comfortable silence enveloping us.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing a gleaming interior. We stepped inside, and Seo-Jun pressed the button for the 25th floor. As the elevator began its ascent, I felt a sense of anticipation, wondering what awaited us in our replicas of the lives we once lived.
The elevator hummed softly as it ascended, the light above flickering slightly. I leaned against the cool metal wall, glancing at the floor numbers above the doors as they counted upward. Callum stood beside me, his fingers drumming lightly on the tablet in his hands.
“Are you excited?” he asked, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I guess. But it’s just a room, after all.”
He chuckled, clearly amused. “Not just any room. It’s a replica of your life. Think of all the memories and emotions tied to it.”
“Memories can be complicated,” I replied, my gaze shifting to the illuminated numbers above. “Sometimes it’s better to leave them behind.”
Callum’s expression softened. “I get that. But maybe it’ll be comforting to see something familiar, something that reminds you of who you were.”
Before I could respond, the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the 25th floor lobby.
Seo-Jun stepped out first, turning around to face us with a half-smile. “Well, this is our floor,” he said, gesturing down the hallway. “Try not to get lost up there on the 26th.”
Sasaki gave him a playful nudge as she followed him out. “They’ll be fine, don’t worry. But you’re the one who needs to catch up on sleep.” She shot a wink in my direction. “See you two tomorrow. Maybe you’ll feel more settled in by then.”
I nodded, watching them disappear into the hallway as the elevator doors slid shut again. For a moment, the sound of their banter still echoed in my mind, but the quiet that followed felt heavier as the elevator resumed its ascent.
Callum shifted beside me, breaking the silence. “They’re good people,” he said, glancing at me. “Took me a while to trust them, too. But two years in, you learn to rely on each other here.”
I didn’t respond immediately, my eyes fixed on the floor numbers climbing higher. Two years. It seemed like an eternity in this place, where time didn’t exist in any recognizable way. They had adjusted, found their rhythm, while I was still trying to understand where I even fit in.
The elevator stopped at the 26th floor with a soft ding, and the doors opened to reveal another dimly lit hallway. Callum led the way out, the soft click of our footsteps filling the space. As we passed each door, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of lives they had left behind, what replicas they were returning to every night.
When we reached Room 14, Callum paused, his hand hovering over the door handle. He turned to me with a small smile. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, his voice reassuring. “The room might remind you of the past, but it’s not who you are now. It’s just a place.”
I nodded, though his words didn’t fully sink in. “Goodnight, Callum.”
“Goodnight, Xiao Li,” he replied, disappearing into his room with a soft click of the door.
I stood in front of Room 15, the number glaring back at me like a challenge. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Instead of the pristine, orderly space I had expected, I was met with a mess—a chaotic snapshot of my old life. Clothes were strewn across the bed and chair, books piled haphazardly on the floor, and papers scattered over the small coffee table in the corner. It was too familiar, almost unsettlingly so. This wasn’t some idealized version of my past; it was exactly how I’d left it.
The mug on the kitchen counter had a ring of dried coffee at the bottom, like it had been sitting there for days. A stack of unopened mail leaned precariously on the edge of the table, threatening to topple over with the slightest nudge. Even the faint scent of laundry I had never finished hung in the air, and I could almost hear my old self making excuses for why I’d left it all undone.
I kicked off my shoes and stepped further inside, carefully avoiding the mess like it was a minefield of memories. There was something eerie about how specific it all was. It was like stepping into a moment I had abandoned, only to find it waiting for me exactly as I’d left it.
Callum had said the room wasn’t supposed to be who I was now, but seeing it in this state made it hard to believe. Every corner of the room screamed of the person I used to be—the one who lived in disarray, who never had time to organize things because life was always one step ahead. The room was a mirror, reflecting all the clutter I had tried to leave behind, and now it was staring right back at me.
I sank onto the couch, shoving aside a crumpled shirt that had been tossed there long ago. The fabric felt soft under my fingers, a ghost of the comfort I had once sought from it. But now, it was just a reminder that even here, in this strange afterlife, I couldn’t escape myself.
I leaned back, closing my eyes and letting the weight of the day settle into my bones. The mess didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. In a weird way, it felt real—like the room was acknowledging that I hadn’t moved on, not yet. And maybe that was okay for now.
With a sigh, I decided I would clean up later. Or maybe never.
The mess I had once been so familiar with felt heavier now, as if it held more meaning than I was ready to confront. My eyes drifted around, catching on small details I hadn’t noticed before—clues, maybe, to the life I had tried so hard to forget.
On the coffee table, beneath the scattered papers and unopened mail, I spotted something half-buried: a small prescription bottle, tipped over and empty. I hadn’t seen it at first, blending in with the clutter, but now it stood out like a scar, its label faded but still legible if I looked closely enough. My throat tightened, but I didn’t move to pick it up. I didn’t need to read it. I already knew what it was.
Nearby, a notebook lay open, the pages scribbled with frantic handwriting. Some lines were crossed out violently, while others trailed off mid-sentence. I stepped closer, scanning the words, though they felt distant, as if someone else had written them.
“What’s the point?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe this is the way out.”
I slammed the notebook shut before I could read more, my heart pounding in my chest. The sound echoed through the room, too loud in the quiet, and for a second, I just stood there, breathing hard.
The mess wasn’t just a reflection of my old life—it was a map of my last days. A timeline of my unraveling, captured in scattered objects and half-finished thoughts. Even the couch, with its soft fabric worn from use, seemed to hold some kind of weight. I glanced at it again, noticing for the first time the blanket crumpled on the floor nearby. There were dark stains on it, subtle but unmistakable. I looked away quickly, bile rising in my throat.
This was the last place I had been before everything ended.
I walked to the window again, the cool glass grounding me. My reflection stared back at me, hollow-eyed and tired. I had come here to escape, to forget the life I had left behind. But the room had followed me, dragging all the broken pieces with it.
I turned away, the weight of it all pressing down on me. Maybe Callum was right—maybe I needed to change things up, make this room something new. But how do you rebuild from something like this? How do you move forward when everything around you is a reminder of the way you chose to end?
I didn’t have the answer. Not yet.
But tomorrow, I’d start figuring it out. Because this room, with all its painful reminders, wasn’t who I was anymore.
It couldn’t be.