Me and the two twins were riding the carriage toward the agency building. I still felt sick from the harrowing experience, desperately suppressing the urge to vomit for the sake of my dignity. I gazed out of the carriage window; the moon looked beautiful, seemingly larger and brighter than the moon in my world. I wasn't sure if it was just a trick of perception.

I diverted my attention from the moon to the twins. They appeared to be around my age, still visibly affected by the gruesome scene we had witnessed. "Sister, what was that? Why were there people inside the hill?" The brother, visibly shaken and scared, queried. The sister, seated on my right, comforted him by placing her hand on his back and offering a reassuring pat. Although the brother remained trembling, he appeared somewhat comforted.

I wanted to initiate a conversation but found myself at a loss for words. The haunting images of the bodies inside the hill dominated my thoughts, and I hesitated to bring up such a distressing topic. Instead, I sat in silence, contemplating the strange and unsettling events that had unfolded since my arrival in this mysterious realm.

The carriage rolled on until we reached the front of the agency building. The twins disembarked first, and I followed them out of the carriage. We entered the building where the lingering smoke painted an eerie atmosphere. The twins settled at one of the tables, and I observed the brother, presumed by me, shedding tears. The sister hugged him, offering comfort, and after a few moments, she too succumbed to tears, though she tried to keep it quiet.

I wanted to comfort them, but I didn't know how. Since elementary school, I had never been one to open up or share my feelings with others. Friendship was a foreign concept to me; the only person I considered a friend was my mom, my sole family member. Additionally, no one seemed interested in being my friend, as I was often labeled the fatherless one.

Gazing at the twins, I felt a sense of helplessness. Should I try to comfort them? I grappled with the unfamiliarity of offering comfort and wondered if it was even necessary.

Feeling the weight of the coins in my pocket, memories of times with my mom flooded back. During moments of sadness, she would buy me something, even if it was as simple as those inexpensive candies. I recalled how those small gestures always managed to lift my spirits.

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I quickly rushed outside, determined to find the bread shop where I bought my morning bread. The street outside was quieter compared to the bustling morning, and I didn't have to wrestle with the crowd. With brisk and deliberate steps, I located the stall where I bought the bread earlier. "Can I get two bread?" I asked, and the vendor replied, "That will be two clints." She placed the bread in a paper bag. Noticing the cheese section was closed, I grabbed the bag with the bread before i leaft i put the two clint at the counter, and sprinted back to the agency.

Outside of the agency building, I was panting for breath. After calming myself I went inside to find the twins' silhouette still crying. With slow steps, I approached them. I extended my hand while holding the bag and asked, "You guys want some?" The sister, who was comforting her brother, had dark circles under her eyes. She slowly took the paper bag from my hand and replied, "Thank you." She took out one of the bread and gave it to her brother, who finally stopped crying. His face was bright red; he bit a little of the bread and chewed on it. I could tell that the breads were hard and not fluffy like in the morning. Then the sister, after seeing this, started to eat too.

Under five minutes, they had finished their meal. The brother spoke softly, expressing gratitude with a shy demeanor, "Thank you." I replied, "No problem," and then added, "Can I know your names?" The sister, Ava, answered first, followed by the brother, Adam. Breaking the ensuing silence, I introduced myself, "My name is Nolan." Curiosity flowing, the sister inquired about my room number, and I responded with "Ten." In turn, they revealed their room numbers, one for the sister and two for the brother. Another silence enveloped the room, leaving my thoughts dwelling on the haunting images of the bodies within the hill.

I suggest, "I think we should go back to our rooms. After what happened, I believe we all need some rest." The sister nods in agreement, saying, "You go; we will be here for a while." I acknowledge her words and begin to search for the stairs in the smoky room. The sister guides me, pointing out, "It's in front of you." Grateful, I reply, "Thank you," and proceed in the indicated direction until I reach the stairs.

Ascending, I find a smoke-free environment on the upper floor. Hastening to my room, I retrieve my key and unlock the door with a soft click. As I enter, the room is shrouded in darkness since I haven't lit any candles. Moving cautiously, I accidentally bump into the side of my bed. Searching underneath, I find a bundle of candles, but the predicament arises - how do I light them? Exploring the room yields no solutions, and I decide to undress, still finding the blond hair peculiar.

Heading towards the bathroom, I fumble until I locate the water bucket. Cleaning myself in the darkness, I emerge feeling refreshed, navigating back until I encounter the bed. Finally, I slip into the cool sheets, embracing the solace of the cold bed.

In bed, I pondered how I became entangled in all of this. Who were the individuals clad in white, and who was the man with the identical face as mine? With these lingering questions, I eventually drifted into a restless sleep.