Nara was still standing in front of that door.
The number 13 was affixed above the doorframe, small but clearly visible in the light of her phone's flashlight.
She raised her hand.
Her finger nearly touched the number.
But she stopped herself.
Something made her entire body refuse to move closer.
Nara took one step back.
Then another.
"It's just an old house," she whispered, trying to convince herself.
She closed the notebook and put it in her bag.
There was no point staying on the second floor.
She went downstairs.
When she reached the living room, Nara immediately turned on every light that still worked.
Most of them flickered before finally coming on dimly.
The house grew a little brighter.
But the cold did not go away.
Nara checked her watch.
6:47 p.m.
There was still time before nightfall.
She decided to clean the living room and set up a place to sleep.
But when she opened one of the old cabinets beneath the stairs, something fell out.
Thud.
A small wooden box.
Nara crouched down and picked it up.
The box was locked.
A simple engraving was carved into the top.
S. W.
Sari Widyastuti.
Nara searched for the key.
There wasn't one.
She tried prying open the lid with the tip of a small knife from her bag.
After several attempts...
Click.
The box opened.
Inside were several sheets of paper, an old photograph, and a small black book.
Nara picked up the book.
Its cover had already faded.
There was no title.
When she opened it, the first page contained only Grandma Sari's handwriting.
Nara recognized it immediately.
Her hands began to grow cold.
> For Nara.
She swallowed.
Then she read the next page.
> If you've opened this house, that means I'm already gone.
Nara stopped.
Her eyes began to sting with tears.
"Why did you never tell me, Grandma?"
She turned the page.
The next line was written in larger letters.
> Listen to me carefully. Never stay in this house after midnight.
Nara fell silent.
She read the sentence again.
Then she turned to the next page.
> Before midnight, make sure all the bedroom doors are closed.
The next page.
> Don't answer if someone calls your name.
Nara furrowed her brow.
Then the next page.
> If you hear knocking from inside a room, don't open the door.
Her breathing grew heavy.
She turned to the final page.
Grandma Sari's handwriting filled nearly the entire page.
> And if a new room appears after midnight, never go inside it.
Nara stared at the book.
Her heart began to beat faster.
Suddenly, a sound came from upstairs.
Knock... knock... knock...
Nara froze.
The same sound.
Three knocks.
She turned toward the stairs.
"Don't..."
Her voice trembled.
Then she looked at the wall clock.
7:03 p.m.
Midnight was still a long way off.
But Nara didn't want to wait until then.
She closed the book and put it in her bag.
Then another sound came.
Creak...
Like a door opening.
Nara stared at the second floor.
"The wind," she muttered.
But all the windows were closed.
She grabbed her suitcase.
Maybe she should go to an inn in the village.
Nara walked toward the front door.
Her hand had just touched the doorknob when she heard an old woman's voice behind her.
A voice she knew all too well.
"Nara..."
Nara's body froze.
It was Grandma Sari's voice.
"Nara, don't leave."
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
She almost turned around.
But then she remembered what the book said.
Don't answer if someone calls your name.
Nara covered her mouth.
The voice came again.
"Nara..."
This time, it was closer.
As if someone were standing right behind her.
Nara closed her eyes.
She didn't move.
Then the voice changed.
It no longer sounded like Grandma Sari.
It became the voice of a little girl.
Soft.
Whispering.
"You're back..."
Nara opened her eyes.
Her hand trembled as she pulled on the front door.
But the door didn't move.
She tried again.
Still locked.
Even though just minutes earlier, the door had opened without a problem.
Nara looked at the lock.
Then she looked around.
The house had fallen silent again.
Utterly silent.
The wall clock ticked softly.
Tick... tock... tick... tock...
Nara looked at the clock.
Its hands moved.
7:13 p.m.
Suddenly, the sound of many doors opening at once came from upstairs.
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
Nara held her breath.
One after another.
More and more.
Until finally, the entire house was filled with the sound of doors opening.
And from the top of the stairs...
came the sound of a child's laughter.
Nara clutched her grandmother's book tightly.
For the first time, she understood something.
Grandma Sari's warning wasn't just a message.
It was a rule for survival.