At 9 p.m., the hallway on the fifth floor of the northeastern tower glowed with orange flames, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls.
'Thud-thud.'
I was heading back to Cupcake's room after a drink at the bar on the tower's first floor.
The moment my fingers brushed the handle, the door creaked open and invited me in.
I thought the door was locked. Did Cupcake forget?
The room was dark, illuminated only by faint moonlight filtering through the window.
As I walked through the narrow entrance corridor, I heard water splashing in the bathroom. I couldn't tell if Cupcake had forgotten to turn off the shower or if she was already back.
'Creak.'
I reached for the handle and opened it. A silhouette stood behind the shower's mist inside the bathroom.
I took three steps in and froze. Cupcake was barely five feet tall, but the person in the shower was much taller than I.