In the lift, I met a girl.
She was pale, looked scared.
I asked if she was okay, and she smiled a smile that said, “no, not really.”
The lift took a long time, so we got to chatting. Her name is Elizabeth Black. She said she was on her honeymoon.
Later, I saw her again. She looked wet, soaked through. I asked her if she had fallen in the pool, and she said she couldn’t remember.
We rode the lift together again and I asked her what room she was staying in.
She said 3204.
“You must be mistaken,” I said. “That’s my room.”
But she was sure. She said she had been there for a long time.
She said she had been waiting for me.
I can’t leave.
-Hidden in the bureau.