“It’s already killed you three times.”
Taresa’s voice came from inside the wardrobe.
Soft.
Hoarse.
Almost like the whisper of someone who had run out of breath.
I didn’t move.
Neither did Elvar.
His hand was still on my shoulder, but his grip had loosened.
For the first time since I met him, all calm had truly vanished from Elvar’s face.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Guilt.
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
“Elvar.”
“Savera, don’t listen.”
I immediately slapped his hand away.
“Why?”
“That isn’t Taresa.”
“If it isn’t Taresa, how does it know my name?”
“Elvar,” the voice from the wardrobe called.
The man in front of me stiffened.
“It knows your name too,” I said.
“Savera.”
“Answer me.”
Pale fingers gripped the wardrobe door through the gap.
Taresa’s analog camera still hung from that wrist.
I recognized the strap.
Dark red.
There was a tiny stitch mark near the clasp.
I’d seen Taresa carrying it that morning.
It was her camera.
“Tar?”
My hand moved.
Elvar immediately caught my wrist.
“Don’t go any closer.”
“Let go.”
“If you open that wardrobe, I won’t be able to help you.”
“You haven’t even explained why I should trust you.”
“I’m not asking you to trust me.”
“Good. Because I don’t.”
I pulled my hand back.
Elvar didn’t let go.
Our eyes met.
“Let go.”
“Savera—”
“Let go.”
Another sob came from inside the wardrobe.
“Savera... it hurts.”
My body went rigid.
The voice sounded clearer now.
It really sounded like Taresa.
“She’s alive,” I said.
“No.”
I looked at Elvar.
“What?”
Elvar closed his eyes for a moment.
Then his voice dropped.
“If Taresa has gone in there, there’s a very good chance that isn’t her speaking.”
“A very good chance?”
I gave a short laugh.
“So you don’t know either?”
“I know what lives behind that wardrobe.”
“What?”
Elvar looked at the wardrobe door.
“Something that learned to use human voices.”
My blood ran cold.
I wanted to say he was lying.
But at that moment, the voice from inside the wardrobe changed.
“Savera...”
It was still Taresa’s voice.
Then—
my mother’s voice.
“Savera, open the door.”
I stopped breathing.
Elvar looked at me immediately.
I had never told him about my mother.
Never.
The voice came again.
Softer.
Exactly the same.
“Savera, Mama’s here.”
My throat went dry.
I knew it wasn’t my mother.
I knew.
My mother was hundreds of kilometers from Larembra.
But sometimes the human body believes faster than the mind.
My hand trembled.
“Mama?”
“Savera.”
Elvar grabbed my face and forced me to look at him.
“Don’t answer.”
I flinched.
His eyes were very close.
“Listen to me. Whatever voice you hear, don’t answer again.”
A small laugh came from inside the wardrobe.
My mother’s voice vanished.
Then it changed again.
Into a man’s voice.
Elvar’s voice.
“Savera.”
I stared at the real Elvar in front of me.
The voice from inside the wardrobe laughed.
“See?”
Elvar went pale.
The voice continued in exactly the same tone as him.
“I’ve already killed you three times.”
I looked at Elvar.
He didn’t deny it.
That was the scariest part.
Elvar pulled me away from the wardrobe.
We stopped near the piano.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Savera.”
“I want answers.”
“Its voice will keep luring you.”
“Let it.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Because you haven’t explained anything.”
I pointed at the wardrobe.
“Is Taresa in there or not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you ever killed me?”
Elvar fell silent.
“Answer me.”
Silence.
I felt something collapse inside my chest.
“So it’s true?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“People always say that when the answer is yes.”
“Savera.”
“How many times?”
He looked at me.
“The one who just said three.”
Elvar lowered his head.
I laughed.
This time, there was no humor in it at all.
“Wow.”
I backed away.
“So I’m trapped in a strange room, I find a wedding photo that couldn’t possibly exist, a student ID from 1988, and then some creature in a wardrobe tells me my mysterious husband has killed me three times.”
“Savera—”
“I don’t even know why I’m still standing here.”
“Because outside is more dangerous.”
“More dangerous than my killer?”
That hit something.
I saw it.
Elvar’s jaw tightened.
His gaze dropped.
“I never wanted you to die.”
“But I died?”
There was no answer.
“Elvar.”
He finally said,
“Yes.”
One word.
Enough to make the room feel colder.
I hugged myself.
“And you caused it?”
“One of them.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“One of your deaths.”
“What about the other two?”
Elvar swallowed.
“This room.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.”
“No, you keep saying you know. You know everything, and I don’t know anything.”
I pointed at the photographs on the wall.
“Who am I in all of this?”
Elvar stared at me for a long time.
“Savera Dahayu.”
“Don’t mess with me.”
“I’m serious.”
“That woman from 1989 can’t possibly be me.”
“She’s you.”
“Because she has the same face?”
“Because she has the same memories.”
I gave a bitter laugh.
“I don’t even have those memories.”
“Not now.”
Now.
That word made me stop.
“What do you mean, ‘not now’?”
Elvar walked toward the small table beside the piano.
He opened the bottom drawer.
From inside, he took out a book.
Its cover was dark brown.
Old.
Its corners were peeling.
He handed it to me.
“What is this?”
“Read it.”
I didn’t take it right away.
“Elvar.”
“If I explain, you’ll think I’m manipulating you.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“That’s why you should read it yourself.”
I finally took the book.
A thin layer of dust clung to the cover.
There was no title.
I opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second contained handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
The writing on the back of the photograph.
The writing on the rules sheet.
But this time—
it wasn’t Elvar’s.
I knew it without any reason I could explain.
It was my handwriting.
I read.
If I’m reading this again, that means I failed.
My heart pounded.
I turned the page.
My name is Savera Dahayu.
I live in Room 403.
I love a man named Elvar Sadyaka.
I stopped.
The letters on the page seemed to shift.
Elvar stood several steps away from me.
He said nothing.
I continued.
And if everything repeats, I have to remember one thing:
Don’t let Elvar live.
My hands trembled.
I looked at Elvar.
He didn’t look surprised.
“You’ve read this before?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you still have it?”
“Because you asked me to.”
I stared at the page.
“Why did I write ‘don’t let you live’?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
I turned to the next page.
There was a date.
September 23, 1989.
The writing that followed was messier.
The third day since Tegar disappeared. Everyone says Room 402 is empty. I still remember him. So does Elvar.
I stopped.
“Tegar?”
“The tenant before Taresa.”
“He disappeared?”
Elvar nodded.
“What was it like?”
“Erased.”
The word made me uncomfortable.
“Erased how?”
“From the world.”
I remembered Taresa’s explanation that morning.
Dying was still easier.
I read again.
Today the class photo changed. Tegar was gone. His number disappeared from the phone book. Even his mother said she’d never had a son named Tegar.
But I still remember.
Because I once went into 404.
I looked at Elvar.
“So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“People can just disappear like that?”
“Yes.”
“And this room causes it?”
Elvar didn’t answer right away.
“It’s complicated.”
I almost threw the book at him.
“Don’t say it’s complicated.”
“Savera—”
“Everything you don’t want to explain, you call complicated.”
I turned the page roughly.
The writing became increasingly chaotic.
Some sections had been crossed out.
Elvar is starting to feel heat.
The next page.
Today his hands weren’t as cold as usual.
The next.
After Tegar disappeared, Elvar could make it as far as the stairs to the Third Floor.
I stopped.
Slowly, something began to take shape in my mind.
“Every time someone disappears...”
Elvar looked at me.
“...you become more alive.”
He was silent.
That was my answer.
I took a step back.
“Oh my God.”
“Savera.”
“Don’t.”
“You need to hear all of it.”
“So Taresa...”
I looked at the wardrobe.
“If she really disappears, what will you get?”
Elvar froze.
I stepped closer to him.
“What?”
“Savera.”
“Will you be able to go farther out?”
He closed his eyes.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“So everyone who disappears makes you more human?”
“I’m not the one choosing them.”
“But you benefit from it.”
“Yes.”
I stared at his face.
A face that had felt both unfamiliar and familiar a few minutes ago.
Now I didn’t know what I was looking at.
A victim?
A monster?
Or someone who had waited too long and no longer cared who had to pay the price for that waiting?
“Will Taresa disappear because I came in here?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“ELVAR.”
“Not necessarily.”
“‘Not necessarily’ isn’t an answer.”
“The room chooses for itself.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
“I really don’t know.”
I looked at the book again.
One page had most of its ink washed away.
I held it closer to the light.
I finally understood what this room wanted.
The next sentence had been crossed out again and again.
I tried to read it.
I couldn’t.
But at the bottom, there was writing that was clearer.
Not a body.
Not blood.
Not death.
It feeds on existence.
A chill ran down the back of my neck.
Then the next page.
Blank.
The page after that.
There was one sentence.
And Elvar needs one complete existence to become alive again.
I stopped.
My eyes slowly lifted.
Elvar was no longer looking at me.
“Who?”
He was silent.
“Who has to disappear so you can live?”
“Savera, enough.”
“Who?”
“Put the book away.”
“WHO?”
Elvar finally looked at me.
His eyes were wet.
And before he answered, I already knew.
Somehow.
I knew.
“Me?”
Silence.
No.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Elvar didn’t move.
“Answer me.”
“Savera—”
“I’m the final price?”
He drew a breath.
“Yes.”
I froze.
For a few seconds, every sound in the room vanished.
No breathing.
No heartbeat.
No knocking.
Only one thought repeating over and over.
I’m the final price.
I let out a small laugh.
“So that’s why I always come back?”
“Elvar.”
“Because this room needs me?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I never called you back.”
“But I came back.”
“Yes.”
“Again and again.”
“Yes.”
“And every time I come back, I die.”
Elvar clenched his fists.
“Not every time.”
I stared at him.
He realized his mistake immediately.
“Not every time?”
I stepped closer.
“So there were times I didn’t die?”
Elvar fell silent.
“Then what happened?”
There was no answer.
I flipped through the pages quickly.
Some were blank.
Some were full.
Then I found a sheet that was different.
The paper was newer.
The date was—
January 12, 2006.
I was born in 2005.
The handwriting was still mine.
I didn’t die this time.
I stopped.
My hands began to grow cold.
I managed to get out of Darwanta.
I thought everything was over.
But when I went home, Mama didn’t recognize me.
I found it hard to breathe.
The next writing was thinner.
My name disappeared from the family card.
My childhood photos changed.
The school said I had never been enrolled.
I’m still alive, but the world is beginning to forget me.
My eyes burned.
I turned the page.
Elvar said he could stop it.
He lied.
I looked at Elvar.
He lowered his head.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Why did you lie?”
“I thought I could.”
“And?”
“I failed.”
I went back to reading.
The next sentence was nearly illegible, blurred by a water stain.
Or tears.
If I lose everything, I have to do one thing before the room takes my name completely.
Beneath it was a sentence written in huge letters.
KILL ELVAR.
I closed the book.
My hands were shaking violently.
“So that’s the death you caused?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
I remembered his words.
One of them.
I moved closer.
“I tried to kill you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you killed me first?”
Elvar closed his eyes.
“Savera.”
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
I slapped him.
The sound of it cracked through the room.
Elvar didn’t move.
His head turned slightly to the side.
I was startled myself.
My hand burned.
He slowly looked at me again.
There was no anger.
That only made me angrier.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m supposed to feel sorry for you.”
“I’m not asking for your pity.”
“Good.”
I pointed at the door.
“Open it.”
“Elvar.”
“I want to leave.”
“It isn’t safe yet.”
“I’d rather face whatever’s outside than share a room with someone who’s killed me before.”
Elvar went pale.
But he walked to the door.
His hand touched the knob.
Then stopped.
“I’m going to open it.”
“Good.”
“But before you leave, listen to one thing.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Savera.”
His tone made me stop.
I looked at him.
Elvar turned around.
“When I killed you, you were already almost erased.”
I said nothing.
“You asked me to do it.”
I froze.
“Liar.”
“I wish that were a lie.”
“You said I tried to kill you myself.”
“Because you thought that if I died, the room would stop taking you.”
“And?”
“It didn’t work.”
I swallowed.
“Elvar.”
“After that, you lost your name. Your face disappeared from photographs. Even your mother didn’t recognize you.”
I shook my head.
“Stop.”
“You asked me to do one thing.”
“Stop.”
“Make sure the room didn’t get you.”
“ELVAR.”
“You asked me to kill you before you were completely erased.”
I didn’t move.
Elvar looked at me.
A tear finally fell from one of his eyes.
“That was the first time I killed you.”
I didn’t know whether to believe him.
That might have been the worst part.
Because something inside me felt like I’d heard those words before.
Pain spread from my temple.
I held my head.
“Savera?”
“Don’t touch me.”
A flash of an image appeared.
A bed.
Candlelight.
Elvar crying.
My hand touching his face.
I heard my own voice.
If I start forgetting my own name, don’t wait.
Then—
sharp pain in my chest.
I jerked.
The vision vanished.
I gasped for breath.
Elvar moved closer.
I backed away.
“I remembered something.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“I...”
I touched my chest.
There was no wound.
Of course not.
But my body still remembered the pain.
“I was in bed.”
Elvar was silent.
“You were crying.”
He lowered his head.
“And I told you not to wait.”
Elvar didn’t answer.
I looked at him.
“So it’s true?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know why that answer hurt more than a lie would have.
Suddenly, a loud crash came from the wardrobe.
BANG!
Elvar and I turned toward it.
The wardrobe door shook.
Once.
Twice.
Then it fell silent.
Taresa’s voice came from inside again.
“Savera...”
I rubbed my face.
“If that isn’t Taresa, why is her camera in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can we check?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that door isn’t a wardrobe.”
I looked at him.
“Then what is it?”
“A passage.”
“To where?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
Taresa’s voice sounded again.
“He’s lying.”
I closed my eyes.
“Shut up.”
“Savera.”
“Shut up!”
The voice stopped.
I looked at Elvar.
“If I open that wardrobe, what happens?”
“No one knows.”
“You’ve never tried?”
“I have.”
I waited.
“Elvar?”
“Once.”
“And?”
He looked at me.
“I found Room 403.”
I fell silent.
“What?”
“Not the Room 403 that exists now.”
He pointed at the wardrobe.
“403 from a different year.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“So the wardrobe...”
“Sometimes it connects this room to a time that’s already gone.”
I stared at the darkness between the wardrobe doors.
“Then Taresa could be in another time.”
“Maybe.”
“And if I go in?”
“Savera.”
“I’m just asking.”
“You’re not going in.”
“That isn’t your decision.”
“I won’t let you.”
I glared at him.
“An hour ago, you said you weren’t asking me to trust you. Now you want to control me?”
“I’ve seen what happens when you go through that door.”
“What?”
Elvar didn’t answer.
Of course.
I snorted.
“Again.”
“Savera.”
I walked toward the wardrobe.
Elvar blocked me.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Taresa might be in there.”
“And maybe that’s what the room wants.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
“You’ve only known her for a day.”
I froze.
That was the wrong thing to say.
Very wrong.
“So because it’s only been a day, I’m allowed to let her disappear?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I don’t want to lose you again because you’re trying to save everyone.”
I stared at him.
“That would sound romantic if I didn’t know that every person who disappears makes you more alive.”
Elvar fell silent.
I walked past him.
This time, he didn’t stop me.
I stood in front of the wardrobe.
The pale hand was gone.
Only darkness remained in the gap.
“Taresa?”
There was no answer.
I touched the knob.
“Savera.”
I turned around.
Elvar stood several feet behind me.
His face was tense.
“If you open it, don’t trust what you see.”
“Why?”
“Because the room stores many versions of us.”
I swallowed.
“Versions?”
“Things that have already happened.”
He stopped.
“And things that shouldn’t have happened.”
I opened the wardrobe.
Cold air rushed into my face.
There were no clothes.
No shelves.
Behind the door—
there was a hallway.
The hallway of Darwanta Guesthouse.
But different.
Its lights glowed a dim red.
The walls were covered in black stains.
And at the far end stood the door to Room 403.
It was open.
I heard someone crying.
“Taresa?”
I stepped inside.
“Savera!”
Elvar grabbed my arm.
I shook him off.
“If I’m not back in five minutes, close the door.”
“No.”
“Elvar.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“I’m not letting you go alone.”
I looked at him.
“I haven’t forgiven you.”
“I know.”
“I might even hate you.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get all romantic.”
“I’m not being romantic.”
For a moment, it was almost funny.
Almost.
I turned around.
We entered the hallway.
The moment Elvar’s foot crossed the wardrobe’s threshold, the door behind us slammed shut.
BANG.
I turned around.
The wardrobe was gone.
Only a wall stood behind us.
“Elvar.”
“I know.”
“You said we could get back.”
“I said the door connected places.”
“You didn’t say it could disappear.”
“I forgot that part.”
I glared at him.
He raised both hands.
“I’m kidding.”
“This is not the time.”
“I’m nervous.”
“You can get nervous?”
“I can now.”
I stopped.
So did he.
It was a small piece of information.
But it meant something.
The more people disappeared—
the more human Elvar became.
I looked at him for a long moment.
“You can feel fear now?”
“Yes.”
“You couldn’t before?”
“Not like this.”
I felt sick again.
We walked toward Room 403.
The sobbing grew clearer.
“Taresa?”
I pushed the door open.
The room inside was dark.
Someone was sitting on the floor.
Shoulder-length hair.
An analog camera in her lap.
“Taresa!”
She raised her head.
I immediately ran toward her.
Elvar caught my arm.
“Wait.”
“That’s her.”
“Wait.”
Taresa slowly stood.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were red from crying.
“Savera?”
I pulled my hand away from Elvar.
“Taresa, are you okay?”
She looked at Elvar.
Her expression changed to fear.
“You brought him?”
“Elvar helped me.”
“Don’t go near him.”
“Taresa—”
“DON’T.”
She stepped back.
The camera fell from her hands.
I stopped.
“Taresa?”
She looked at me as if I were the frightening one now.
“Savera... you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“He isn’t the first tenant of Room 404.”
Elvar stiffened.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Taresa shook her head.
Tears fell from her eyes.
“404 always has a tenant.”
She pointed at Elvar.
“If one manages to get out, the room looks for a replacement.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“Elvar?”
He didn’t answer.
Taresa continued.
“Jaresta once told me.”
“Elvar.”
“The tenant of 404 isn’t a victim.”
Taresa’s voice trembled.
“They’re part of that room.”
I looked at Elvar.
“Is that true?”
He was silent.
That was enough.
I took a step back.
“So if you get out completely...”
Taresa looked at me.
“Someone has to stay behind and replace him.”
My heart pounded.
I already knew the answer.
But I asked anyway.
“Who?”
Taresa didn’t look at Elvar.
She looked at me.
“You.”
The room fell silent.
Then, behind us, we heard a door close.
I turned around.
Someone was standing in the doorway of Room 403.
A woman.
She looked about twenty-one.
Long hair.
A pale face.
She wore clothes that looked like they came from decades ago.
I didn’t recognize her.
Not until she stepped into the light.
My face.
The woman had my face.
She smiled.
Then she looked at Elvar.
“Finally.”
Elvar went pale.
I turned to him.
“Elvar?”
He took one step back.
For the first time, I saw pure fear on his face.
The woman with my face smiled wider.
“You took so long to bring her home.”
I stared at her.
“Who are you?”
She shifted her gaze to me.
Her smile disappeared.
Then she said,
“I’m Savera.”
I couldn’t move.
The woman pointed at me.
“And you’re something Room 404 created so Elvar would come back.”