Chapter 2

Holt finished drinking his pear juice.

He fell asleep leaning back on the couch.

As time ticked by second by second, I grew increasingly anxious.

Holt had just told me he would find a way to distract Miss Monica so I could escape.

But now, he had fallen asleep just like that.

It was getting stuffier in the closet, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, I sensed something was wrong.

Because Miss Monica started laying plastic sheets on the floor.

Then she put on rubber gloves.

Next, she picked up a knife...

And cleanly sliced it across Holt's neck.

I was stunned.

It took several seconds for me to realize what Monica was doing.

Covering my mouth, I desperately suppressed a scream in my throat.

Holt's head rolled off his neck.

His face was turned towards the closet, his eyelids somehow open, his blank, cloudy eyes staring directly at me hidden inside.

Monica began dismembering the body.

Her movements were practiced, first separating the intact body into large pieces, then breaking those down into smaller chunks.

Then she went to the kitchen.

In that kitchen where Holt had just shared wine with me, Monica set up a large pot.

I knew without being told what she intended to do.

The first pot of meat was quickly thrown in and set to boil.I gagged as waves of nausea crashed over me, intense fear and sickness intertwining until my brain could barely function.

What should I do?

Call the police. Yes, I need to call the police.

I pulled out my phone, only to discover in despair that it was dead.

I peered out through the crack in the closet door.

I spotted Holt's phone, which had fallen between the couch cushions.

I could use Holt's phone to call for help!

I tried to stand up, but my legs had gone weak without me realizing it, causing me to stumble hard.

My head smacked against the closet door with a loud thud.

The chopping sounds from the kitchen immediately stopped.

I remembered that text message, the one that said "The mistress will die tonight."

When I received it, I thought it was just a cruel prank.

Now it seemed like a final warning.

At this moment, all regrets were utterly useless. Monica had entered the bedroom, wielding a razor-sharp cleaver.

Step by step, she approached the closet.

I started shaking, clenching my jaw tightly to keep my teeth from chattering audibly.

With a creak, Monica pulled open the closet door.

The closet was empty.

Monica stood in front of the open closet, gripping the knife.

Blood dripped from the blade, spattering onto my face.Yes, I lay on the floor beneath the bed next to the closet.

If Monica crouched down, she would see me.

One second, two seconds.

Just as I was about to lose my mind, Monica turned away.

She left.

The sound of chopping meat resumed in the kitchen. I darted out and grabbed Holt's phone from under the couch.

What was Holt's password?

Think quickly, you've seen him enter it before. You must remember.

I tried once.

Incorrect.

I tried again.

Still incorrect.

Finally, on my third attempt, it unlocked.

I let out a long sigh of relief and immediately tapped on the messaging app.

Monica was in the kitchen. I didn't dare make a sound by calling, but I could send an emergency text.

However, due to my extreme nervousness, my fingers were shaking badly. I accidentally hit the lock button.

The screen went dark.

I cursed myself silently seven times, then prepared to enter the password again.

But suddenly, my hand froze.

The darkened screen reflected light, revealing two faces.

One was mine.

The other was Monica's, behind me.

The sound of chopping meat was still coming from the kitchen.

Yet somehow, Monica had appeared behind me.Her eyes were large and dark, staring straight at me through the screen.

"Didn't you get my text?" she asked softly.