# Chapter 2
Don't Trust Your Memories
I didn't sleep until sunrise.
Not because I was scared.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
I just sat on the bed with my back against the wall, staring at the sheet of paper lying on the table.
This time, don't fall in love with me again.
Elvar.
I'd read that sentence seventeen times.
Maybe more.
I had even taken pictures of it.
Three times.
The first photo with the bedroom light on.
The second using flash.
The third after I'd put the paper on the floor, just to make sure there wasn't some shadow or reflection making me misread the words.
The result was the same.
The writing was real.
Or—
I rubbed my face.
“Calm down, Savera.”
I needed a logical explanation.
And actually, there were plenty.
Taresa could have gotten into my room.
So could Jaresta.
Mrs. Marjani had a spare key.
Maybe they'd made up some weird prank for the new tenant, installed some kind of fake door in the hallway, had a man pretend to be the tenant in Room 404, and written the message on the back of the paper while I was out of my room.
It made sense.
A little over the top.
But it made sense.
There was only one problem.
That man knew my name.
I stared at the paper again.
That wasn't all.
He'd said—
You're finally back.
Back from where?
I'd never been to Darwanta Guesthouse before.
I'd only learned this place existed two weeks ago from an online ad.
Then there was the next sentence.
This time, don't fall in love with me again.
This time.
Again.
Two words that shouldn't have meant anything.
Yet for some reason, ever since I read them, an uneasy feeling had been settling in my chest.
As if some small part of me understood what they meant.
And that part was trying desperately to keep me from remembering.
At 6:12 a.m., I gave up on sleeping.
I showered, changed clothes, and opened my bedroom door.
The first thing I saw was the window.
It was still there.
I stepped out.
Three rooms.
I walked all the way to the end of the hallway.
My hand touched the window glass.
Cold.
Beyond it, Larembra's morning sky was a pale gray. The streets were still wet from last night's rain.
I knocked on the glass.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Solid.
Real.
I examined the wall around it.
There were no hinge marks.
No seams.
No sign that a door had ever been there.
“If you're looking for 404, you won't find it this early in the morning.”
I turned around.
Taresa was standing in front of Room 402.
Her hair was still messy. She was wearing pajamas and holding a mug.
“We need to talk.”
“Agreed.”
She nodded toward the stairs.
“Downstairs.”
“Why not here?”
Taresa glanced down the hallway.
“Because I don't like talking about him on the Fourth Floor.”
The shared kitchen was on the first floor.
That early, not many tenants were awake yet. The only sounds were the old refrigerator and water boiling in the electric kettle.
Taresa sat across from me.
I set the rule sheet on the table.
She immediately stopped stirring her drink.
“You've seen this before?”
“I got one when I first moved in, too.”
“Not the rules.”
I turned the paper over.
Elvar's writing was clearly visible.
Taresa's expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You know that name.”
“No, I don't.”
“You haven't even read it yet.”
Taresa fell silent.
“You said last night that you knew,” I continued. “You saw that room, right?”
She looked down at her drink.
“Taresa.”
“Lower your voice.”
“Why?”
“Because we don't know who's listening.”
I gave a short laugh.
“This is a boardinghouse, not an intelligence agency.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
Taresa finally raised her head.
“You really want to know?”
“Obviously.”
“Even if you might not be able to pretend everything is normal afterward?”
“Ever since a room appeared out of a wall, my standards for normal have been pretty low.”
Taresa didn't laugh.
She drew a breath.
“404 does exist.”
I waited.
“It just isn't always there.”
“What does that mean?”
“That door appears for certain people.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Have you ever gone inside?”
“No.”
“Have you ever spoken to Elvar?”
Taresa stiffened.
I saw it.
“You know his name.”
“I've heard it before.”
“From whom?”
Taresa didn't answer.
I pushed the paper toward her.
“He said I was finally back. He said I'd fallen in love with him before. I don't even know him.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Taresa closed her eyes for a moment.
“I know you don't know him.”
“Then why does he know me?”
“I have no idea.”
“You're lying.”
“I'm not lying.”
“You're obviously hiding something.”
Taresa looked at me.
There was fear in her eyes.
Not fear of me.
Fear of something that wasn't even in the room.
“Savera, listen. If you want to keep staying here, follow the rules. Don't look into that room. Don't talk to its tenant. If the door appears again, go into your room and lock the door.”
“Why?”
“Because people who get curious about 404 usually don't end well.”
“They die?”
Taresa fell silent.
Then she shook her head.
“If only dying were easier.”
I furrowed my brow.
“What does that mean?”
Taresa had just opened her mouth when someone spoke from the kitchen doorway.
“Talking about ghosts first thing in the morning?”
Jaresta.
She came in carrying a bag of bread.
Taresa immediately grabbed the paper and turned it over.
Too late.
Jaresta saw it.
Her gaze fell on the writing on the back of the paper.
The bread slipped from her hand.
Taresa and I both stared at her.
Jaresta picked up the bread again.
“Where did you get that writing?”
“In my room.”
“Who came in?”
“No one.”
“Are you sure?”
“The door was locked.”
Jaresta pulled out a chair.
She didn't ask permission before sitting down.
“Did he talk to you?”
I nodded.
“What did he say?”
I hesitated.
For some reason, I didn't want to tell her everything.
“You're finally back.”
Jaresta fixed me with a sharp look.
“That's all?”
I nodded.
I lied.
And it seemed like she knew.
But Jaresta didn't push me.
“If he shows up again, don't talk to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he's a liar.”
Taresa looked at Jaresta.
“Don't start.”
“Start what?”
“We don't know if that's true.”
“I know it is.”
“You don't know anything.”
Jaresta gave a hollow laugh.
“I've lived here longer than you.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Long enough to know what happens when someone starts believing the tenant in that room.”
I looked back and forth between them.
“Could one of you stop talking in riddles?”
Silence.
I pointed at the paper.
“Who is Elvar?”
No answer.
“Okay. Another question. What is Room 404?”
Still no answer.
“Why does he know my name?”
Jaresta looked at Taresa.
Taresa gave a small shake of her head.
A gesture I might not have noticed if I hadn't been watching.
There was something they had agreed not to tell me.
I stood up.
“All right.”
“Savera—”
“If you won't tell me, I'll find out myself.”
Jaresta stood too.
“Don't.”
“Why not?”
“Because some things are safer forgotten.”
That sentence made me stop.
I stared at her.
“I don't even know what I'm supposed to forget.”
Jaresta's expression changed.
For a moment, I saw something resembling pity.
“That's exactly why you're still safe.”
I left for campus at eight.
I was supposed to attend faculty orientation.
Instead, I sat in a corner of the Varesta University Library with my laptop open.
First search:
Darwanta Guesthouse Room 404.
Nothing.
Second search:
Darwanta Guesthouse Larembra.
Several boardinghouse ads came up.
Photos of the building.
A phone number.
Tenant reviews.
Ordinary.
I opened one old review.
Comfortable place, kind landlady, close to campus.
The next review:
A little old, but clean.
The next:
The upper floor gets noisy sometimes at night.
I stopped.
The review had been posted six years ago by an account named MiraS.
I opened it.
There was no profile picture.
I continued reading.
If you get the Fourth Floor, you should probably avoid the room at the very end.
My heart beat a little faster.
I searched for other reviews from that account.
There were none.
I copied the sentence into a search engine.
Zero results.
Then I searched:
“Elvar” “Darwanta”
Nothing.
“Elvar Sadyaka” Larembra
Several names appeared, but none were relevant.
I was about to close my laptop when I remembered something.
Elvar hadn't told me his last name last night.
The name Sadyaka had only appeared in my mind because—
My hand stopped above the keyboard.
I stared at the screen.
No.
Wait.
How did I know his last name?
I tried to remember.
Was it written on the paper?
I opened my phone gallery.
The first photo.
This time, don't fall in love with me again.
Elvar.
Just Elvar.
There was no Sadyaka.
I swallowed.
Maybe Taresa had mentioned it.
No.
Jaresta?
No.
Mrs. Marjani?
No.
I opened the notes app and typed quickly.
Elvar Sadyaka.
The name felt familiar.
Not like a name I'd just made up.
More like the name of someone I'd said so often that my tongue knew its shape by heart.
I closed my eyes.
Elvar Sadyaka.
My head throbbed instantly.
And—
Rain.
I saw rain.
Not the library.
Not the campus.
A dark hallway.
My hand was holding someone's hand.
Blood ran between our fingers.
A man's voice.
Don't look back.
I opened my eyes.
My breath caught in my throat.
The library was back.
Students walked between the shelves.
The air conditioner hummed.
My hands were trembling.
“What was that...?”
I touched my temple.
Impossible.
Maybe I was sleep-deprived.
Yeah.
I hadn't slept all night.
The human brain could do strange things when it was exhausted.
I closed my laptop.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Taresa.
Taresa: Are you on campus?
I replied.
Me: Yeah. Why?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Taresa: Don't come home too late.
I rolled my eyes.
Me: Why is everyone so obsessed with curfew?
Her reply didn't come right away.
Then—
Taresa: I'm serious.
Taresa: Jaresta says the door might appear again tonight.
I stared at the screen.
Me: How does she know?
There was no reply.
I typed again.
Me: Taresa?
Two check marks.
Unread.
I was about to put my phone in my bag when the screen suddenly flickered.
A notification appeared.
New message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
Just one sentence.
Don't trust Taresa.
I froze.
The number wasn't saved.
I replied.
Who is this?
My message was sent.
The answer came almost instantly.
You already know.
My heart began pounding.
I typed:
Elvar?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
No answer.
I tried calling the number.
The call failed.
Again.
Failed.
I opened the contact information.
The number was strange.
There was no country code.
No carrier.
Only—
404
I nearly dropped my phone.
The screen flickered again.
New message.
Come home before sunset.
A second message.
And whatever they tell you about me, don't believe it.
I let out a nervous little laugh.
Me: Funny. You just told me not to trust Taresa. Now you're telling me to trust you?
There was no answer for a long time.
Then:
Don't trust me either.
I fell silent.
The next message appeared.
Especially if I ask you to come into my room.
I got home at 5:26 p.m.
The sun hadn't fully set yet.
Darwanta Guesthouse looked ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Mrs. Marjani was sweeping the yard.
She saw me come in.
“Campus?”
“Yeah.”
“How was it?”
“Fine.”
I almost walked past her.
Then I stopped.
“Ma'am.”
“Hmm?”
“How long have you owned this boardinghouse?”
Her sweeping stopped.
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
“My family has owned the building for a long time.”
“Since before I was born?”
Mrs. Marjani gave me a thin smile.
“Long before you were born.”
I nodded.
“Did you ever have a tenant named Elvar?”
The broom fell from her hand.
Not loudly.
But enough to tell me the answer before she spoke.
Mrs. Marjani picked up the broom again.
“Who told you that name?”
“So you know him?”
“Who?”
“Elvar.”
“Savera.”
Her tone changed.
“Who told you that name?”
I thought about the messages on my phone.
Then the paper.
“He did.”
The color drained from Mrs. Marjani's face.
She stepped closer.
“He spoke to you?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know. A minute?”
“Did he touch you?”
The question came too quickly.
Too panicked.
“No.”
Mrs. Marjani let out a breath.
As if relieved.
“If he appears again, don't let him touch you.”
“Why?”
“Just don't.”
“Ma'am, I'm tired of everyone telling me not to do this and not to do that. I have a right to know what's really going on.”
Mrs. Marjani stared at me for a long time.
Then her gaze shifted to the stairs.
“Not every answer will make you safer.”
“At least let me decide for myself.”
“So did the tenant before you.”
I fell silent.
“The tenant in 403?”
Mrs. Marjani didn't answer.
“What happened to her?”
No answer.
“Ma'am?”
Mrs. Marjani went back to sweeping.
“Go upstairs before it gets dark.”
I wanted to ask more.
But the conversation was clearly over.
I walked toward the stairs.
I'd barely stepped onto the first stair when Mrs. Marjani's voice stopped me.
“Savera.”
I turned around.
“If you see him again tonight, look at his hands.”
“Why?”
Mrs. Marjani lowered her head.
“If there's a ring on his ring finger, don't listen to anything he says.”
11:51 p.m.
I sat on my bed.
The light was on.
My laptop was open.
I wasn't studying.
I was just waiting.
Stupid.
I knew.
But after Elvar's messages and Mrs. Marjani's warning, there was no way I could simply go to sleep.
11:58.
11:59.
12:00.
Nothing happened.
I let out a small laugh.
“See?”
12:07.
Still nothing.
I started to feel ridiculous.
12:19.
I picked up my phone.
No new messages.
12:31.
My eyelids began to grow heavy.
Then—
A piano.
I sat straight up.
One note.
Two.
Three.
The same melody as last night.
My phone vibrated.
Number 404.
Don't go out.
I stared at the message.
The piano kept playing.
Me: Are you outside?
No answer.
Me: Elvar?
The piano stopped.
Then—
Knock.
I held my breath.
Knock.
The sound came from the end of the hallway.
Knock.
Silence.
I waited for the fourth knock.
There wasn't one.
My phone vibrated.
Don't open the door.
I typed.
Why?
The answer came.
Because the one knocking isn't me.
My blood ran cold.
Then a voice came from behind my bedroom door.
“Savera?”
Taresa's voice.
I stood up.
“Savera, open up.”
My hand almost touched the doorknob.
Then I remembered rule number three.
Don't answer someone who knocks four times.
But there had only been three knocks.
“Taresa?”
The moment her name left my mouth, the voice outside stopped.
Damn it.
I'd just answered.
“Savera, open the door, quick. I'm scared.”
I moved closer.
“What happened?”
“There's someone in my room.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Her voice trembled.
“Open the door first.”
My hand closed around the knob.
My phone vibrated.
DON'T.
I stared at the screen.
The next message.
Taresa isn't in front of your door.
I froze.
The voice outside spoke again.
“Savera?”
I didn't answer.
My phone vibrated again.
A photo came in.
I opened it.
A photo of the Fourth Floor hallway.
It had been taken from the far end, near the window.
A woman stood in front of Room 403.
Shoulder-length hair.
An oversized T-shirt.
Taresa.
Her back was to me.
But something was wrong.
Her feet weren't touching the floor.
I covered my mouth.
“Savera.”
The voice behind the door changed.
It still sounded like Taresa.
But it was heavier.
Deeper.
“Open up.”
I backed away.
Knock.
The fourth knock.
The bedroom light went out.
I let out a small scream.
Darkness.
My phone became the only light.
Outside—
something laughed.
It no longer sounded like Taresa.
I backed up until my spine hit the table.
Then the sound of footsteps moved away.
One.
Two.
Three.
Silence.
I waited.
Maybe a minute.
Maybe ten.
I didn't know.
The light suddenly came back on.
My phone vibrated.
Now come out.
I stared at the message like a lunatic.
Me: Do you think I'm that stupid?
The answer came quickly.
No.
But if you stay in your room, you'll die.
I swallowed.
Me: Why?
No answer.
Then I heard it.
Breathing.
Soft.
Right behind me.
I stopped breathing.
Don't turn around.
I had no idea where the thought came from.
Don't turn around.
My phone vibrated.
RUN.
I stopped thinking.
I opened the door.
The hallway stretched ahead.
The window was gone.
The door to Room 404 was already there.
Open.
Elvar stood in front of it.
“Over here!”
I ran.
Behind me, the door to Room 403 opened on its own.
The sound of something crawled rapidly across the floor.
I didn't dare look back.
Elvar reached out his hand.
“Your hand!”
I almost grabbed it.
Then I remembered Mrs. Marjani.
Look at his hands.
I looked at Elvar's fingers.
There was no ring.
I grabbed his hand.
Cold.
So cold.
The moment our skin touched, something exploded in my head.
Rain.
Blood.
The hallway.
Elvar was holding my hand.
But it wasn't the Elvar standing before me now.
His face was covered in wounds.
I was crying.
So was he.
There was a ring on his ring finger.
And the same ring—
was on my finger.
If we fail this time, don't look for me again.
A woman's voice answered.
My voice.
I'll always look for you.
The vision vanished.
I staggered.
Elvar pulled me inside.
The door to Room 404 slammed shut.
BANG!
Something struck it from outside.
I gasped for breath.
My hand was still clasped in Elvar's.
He looked at me.
I looked at our hands.
For the first time, I realized something.
There was a pale ring-shaped line around my ring finger.
Like the mark left by a ring worn for years.
Even though I'd never worn a ring on that finger.
I pulled my hand away.
“What did I just see?”
Elvar was silent.
“Answer me.”
“Savera—”
“Why did I see myself with you?”
His expression changed.
“Why were we wearing rings?”
He closed his eyes.
I grew angrier.
“Who are you, really?”
Elvar opened his eyes.
“Someone you were supposed to forget.”
“Don't answer me in riddles!”
I backed away.
For the first time, I saw Room 404 clearly.
There was a bed.
An old wardrobe.
A table.
A black piano in the corner.
And dozens of photos stuck to the walls.
I stopped.
Every photo showed the same woman.
Me.
I moved closer.
The first photo showed me standing in the hallway.
The second showed me sitting at the piano with Elvar.
The third showed me asleep with my head on his shoulder.
The fourth—
showed us kissing.
My hands began to tremble.
“This is impossible.”
I picked up one of the photos.
The paper was old.
Its corners had yellowed.
There was a date on the back.
August 17, 1989.
I hadn't even been born yet.
“Who is this?”
Elvar didn't answer.
“ELVAR!”
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Don't look at the last photo.”
Of course, I immediately looked.
At the end of the wall was a different photo.
A wedding photo.
Elvar stood wearing a black suit.
Beside him was a woman in a simple white dress.
The woman's face—
was mine.
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“No.”
I picked up the photo.
There was handwriting on the back.
The same handwriting as the writing on the rule sheet in my room.
For Savera,
if you ever come back and don't remember me, don't force yourself to remember.
Below it:
Elvar Sadyaka.
The strength left my hands.
The photo fell.
Elvar looked at me with an expression I'd been trying to understand all this time.
Now I knew what I was seeing.
It wasn't simply longing.
It was the look of a man at someone he had once loved.
“Was I married to you?”
Elvar didn't answer.
I moved closer to him.
“Answer me.”
His jaw tightened.
Then—
“Yes.”
The world seemed to stop.
I stared at him.
“That's impossible.”
“I know.”
“I was born in 2005.”
“I know.”
“That photo is from 1989.”
“I know.”
“Then that woman wasn't me.”
Elvar looked into my eyes.
“She was you.”
I let out a small laugh.
The sound came out almost like a sob.
“So what am I? A reincarnation?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Elvar was silent for a long time.
Then he walked to the table.
He opened a drawer.
And took something out.
A student ID.
He handed it to me.
I looked at the photo on the card.
My face.
Name:
SAVERA DAHAYU
Varesta University.
My hands trembled even harder.
Then I saw the year it was issued.
1988.
I could barely speak.
“Where did you get this?”
Elvar looked at me.
“You left it here.”
“Impossible.”
“Savera.”
His voice was incredibly gentle.
And for some reason, that only made me more afraid.
“You didn't come to Darwanta Guesthouse for the first time yesterday.”
I stared at him.
Elvar continued.
“You've come to this place many times.”
“How many?”
He didn't answer.
“Elvar.”
His gaze shifted to the photos on the wall.
Then back to me.
“Enough times that I stopped counting.”
I backed away.
My head began to throb.
“Why don't I remember?”
Elvar looked like he was about to answer.
Suddenly, there was a knock from inside the wardrobe.
Knock.
We both fell silent.
Knock.
Elvar's expression immediately changed.
“Don't move.”
I stared at the wardrobe.
“Elvar...”
Knock.
The third knock.
Elvar hurried toward me.
“Savera, whatever you hear after this, don't answer.”
A voice came from inside the wardrobe.
A woman's voice.
Crying.
Then it called my name.
“Savera...”
I recognized that voice.
“Taresa?”
Elvar gripped my shoulder.
“Don't.”
“But that's Taresa.”
“That's not her.”
The sobbing grew louder.
“Savera, please help me...”
I looked at Elvar.
“If that's not Taresa, who is it?”
He didn't answer.
There was a fourth knock from inside the wardrobe.
Knock.
The wardrobe door opened slightly.
A hand emerged through the gap.
An analog camera hung from its wrist.
Taresa's camera.
I stopped breathing.
Then Taresa's voice whispered from the darkness inside the wardrobe.
“Savera...”
“Don't trust Elvar.”
I looked at the man beside me.
Elvar froze.
The voice from inside the wardrobe continued—
“He's already killed you three times.”