At 2:00 a.m., the old clocktower rang only once. Lin Yao paused at the stair corner and heard pages turning upstairs, even though the building had no windows.
She reached for the key in her pocket, but her fingertips touched a warm button first.It was the second missing button from her father's coat on the night he disappeared; it should not have been here.She did not rush upstairs. She stepped back half a pace and flattened her breathing.In the dark, the footsteps stopped exactly when she stopped.
At the top of the stairs, a long-dead emergency light flickered on, revealing a chalk line: Do not trust the voice behind the door.She closed her fist around the button and moved up the handrail, boots nearly silent. In that instant she understood this was not a missing-person case, but a memory trap built for her.
At the end of the third-floor corridor, a half-closed door trembled slowly, as if someone inside was repeating her name.