Chapter 7 — Don't Open The Door At 2 A.M

"This house was rented by the landlord, and the lock was changed once before." I turned to look at him. "When?" "Before you guys rented it together." "So who lived there before?" Manager Luong pursed his lips. "This must be checked for records." Police officer Tran said: "Check now." Manager Luong didn't dare to wait any longer, so he picked up the phone and called the office. I opened the door, letting the police in first. The house is still the same as when I left. The living room lights are off, the empty white ceramic plate is placed on the shoe cabinet. The secondary bedroom door is tightly closed. That was the room Duong Ly used to live in. I stood at the door, suddenly not wanting to go in. Officer Cao put on gloves and pushed the door open. In the room there was only a mattress and an old coat hanger. The curtains were pulled aside, dust floating in the light. Officer Tran asked: "The day she moved out, did you come in to check?" "Just took a look." "Did she show much resistance when you touched her luggage?" I remembered the white knuckles when she pressed the suitcase handle. "Yes." Officer Cao squatted down to look at the mattress. Under the mattress is a black anti-slip pad, one corner is slightly up. He flipped the mattress over, revealing the bed board. In the middle of the bed board was a slightly dark patch, as if someone had wiped it over and over again. Officer Tran used a flashlight to shine in. "There are glue stains here." My heart sank. Officer Cao felt around the glue mark, his fingertips stopped at the bed board gap. He used a small tool to pry a little. A thin piece of wood popped out. Beneath the piece of wood revealed a flat gray cloth bag. Manager Luong couldn't help but step forward. "What is this?" Officer Tran turned to look at him. "Step back." When the cloth bag was taken out, the outside was still wrapped with transparent tape. The edges of the tape are dusty, clearly not newly installed. Officer Cao cut off the tape. Inside there was an old phone, a small box of memory cards and some folded papers. I saw my name written on a piece of paper. That's not my handwriting. Below the paper is pressed a copy. On the copy is my ID photo. My throat immediately choked. "Why does she have this?" No one immediately responded. Officer Tran put the items into the evidence bag, his voice very steady. "You confirm first, are these things you ever gave her?" I shook my head. "No." My voice was dry. "I never let her photocopy my ID." At this moment, the old phone screen suddenly lit up. Apparently no one touched it. A new message appeared on the screen. “Don't open it.”09The old phone was placed in the evidence bag. The transparent plastic layer separates the screen, causing the other three letters to slightly deform. Officer Tran frowned. "Does the phone still have battery power?" Officer Cao said: "Maybe it's always turned off in standby mode, just touched the button." I stared at the top right corner of the screen. The battery is only three percent left. But the message is not old news. The time shown is just now. The sender had no note, just a series of strange numbers. Manager Luong stood next to the door, his face getting whiter and whiter. "This has nothing to do with our management, right?" Officer Tran looked at him. "I haven't asked you yet." Manager Luong closed his mouth. Officer Cao put his old phone and memory card back. "Go back to the station to extract data." I pointed to a few pieces of paper. "Can I take a look?" Officer Tran was silent for a moment, then turned a sheet in the evidence bag towards me. It's a handwritten list. Above is listed my full name, phone number, company address, and the time I usually go to work and leave work. The last line reads: spare key, white plate on the shoe cabinet. The writing is very small, as if afraid of taking up space. My whole body was cold. Turns out she wasn't on a whim. She soon recorded every habit in my house. I remember the past year and a half, her

always lying on the sofa scrolling through the phone, looking like she doesn't care about anything. I thought she was lazy, but I didn't expect she was looking. Police Officer Tran asked: "When did she have access to your identity?" I tried to remember. "Last year when renewing the contract, the broker asked us to submit photos of documents. I sent them to the shared rental group, and they were quickly revoked." Manager Luong immediately said: "Our platform will not reveal tenant information." I looked at him. "Who opened her temporary access rights? Up to now you still haven't made it clear." Manager Luong's forehead sweated again. "Backstage records are still being checked." Police Officer Cao asked: "Who has the backstage account?" "I, the receptionist, there is also someone on night shift." "Call everyone." Manager Luong did not dare to refute. I followed the police to the station. On the way, police officer Tran asked me: "Does Duong Ly have economic problems?" I said: "She is often forced to pay the back payments, and once borrowed two thousand from me, I did not lend it." "Has a stranger ever looked for her?" "Once, a man waited for her downstairs." Officer Tran looked over. "What was the man like?" I remembered a bit. "About thirty years old, black sneakers, tattoos on the back of his hand." As the words left my mouth, I myself stopped before. Black sneakers.