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𝗞𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗮🌸 Nigeria
fashion designer ▪︎ lifestyle vlogger @ self employed
Abuja, Nigeria
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 3 min read
The 22nd Floor
<p><br/></p><p><strong>Chapter 3</strong></p><p><br/></p><p><strong>The handle turned.</strong></p><p>I stopped breathing.</p><p>Someone stepped inside.</p><p>Not Marcus.</p><p>Mrs Cole.</p><p><strong>Her silk scarf was gone.</strong></p><p>She was holding a heavy glass vase brought from her</p><p> own apartment.</p><p>"Where is it?" she said, voice shaking. "Where is the</p><p> machine that tells the lies?"</p><p>I backed away. "Mrs Cole, please. I was trying to help</p><p> you."</p><p>"Help me?" She laughed. Sharp. Bitter.</p><p>"My husband saw the posts. He thinks I exposed him.</p><p> He left me.</p><p>Her voice cracked.</p><p>"You didn't help me. You destroyed my life."</p><p>She swung the vase.</p><p>It hit the wall inches from my head and shattered.</p><p>Glass scattered on the floor.</p><p>I ran toward the kitchen.</p><p>A deep, cold voice came through the speaker.</p><p>"Resident Leyla. Your admin access has been</p><p> removed. Security is on the way."</p><p>Mrs Cole's face went pale. It was like all the life had</p><p> drained out of her.</p><p>I looked at my laptop. Dead. Just dark plastic.</p><p>I wasn't the hero.</p><p>I was the problem.</p><p>Then the laptop flickered back to life on its own.</p><p>A single post appeared from an account called "The</p><p> Mirror."</p><p>"Everyone wants to see the truth until they have to</p><p> look at themselves."</p><p>Below it, I saw a video.</p><p>Me sitting at my desk. Night after night.</p><p>Smiling.</p><p>A strange, hungry smile as I read their pain.</p><p>"She didn't do it for them," the caption read. "She was</p><p> the loneliest person in the building. She fed on their</p><p> secrets to feel full."</p><p>Then a second video played.</p><p>From inside my own smoke detector.</p><p>Me crying. Me talking to myself in the dark.</p><p>Someone had been watching me the entire time.</p><p>The master key wasn't a gift.</p><p>It was a trap.</p><p>Heavy boots outside my door.</p><p><strong>Three knocks.</strong></p><p>"Open the door, Leyla. We all know."</p><p>I opened it.</p><p>The hallway was full of people. Every neighbour.</p><p>All holding phones. All showing the same video.</p><p><br/></p><p><img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/1000068302.jpg"/></p><p><br/></p><p>It was my face on the screen. My messages.</p><p> Everything I had done.</p><p>Jay stepped forward.</p><p>"<strong>You saved my life," he said quietly. "But you stole</strong></p><p><strong> everyone else's."</strong></p><p>I had no words.</p><p>"Where is Marcus?" I asked. "He was on your phone</p><p> that night. What did he have to do with any of this?"</p><p>Jay looked at the floor.</p><p>He didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened. </p><p>He shifted his weight and looked away.</p><p>Marcus sent you that email," he finally said. </p><p>He built the whole board. </p><p>The admin access. </p><p>The encrypted user. All of it.</p><p>I stared at him. "Why?"</p><p>Because he wanted to see what happens when</p><p> someone gets everything. Every secret. Every name.</p><p> Every door unlocked." Jay paused. "I helped him test</p><p> it. That's why I was on that balcony. I was part of it</p><p> until I couldn't do it anymore.</p><p>"So I was an experiment?" My voice broke.</p><p>"You were the only one who actually cared," Jay said.</p><p> "That's what made you perfect."</p><p><strong>I felt sick.</strong></p><p>"Marcus is gone," Jay said. He disappeared last night.</p><p> He wiped everything from the servers. Cameras. Logs.</p><p> All of it.</p><p><strong>"</strong><strong>Then who's been messaging me?"</strong></p><p>Jay looked at me. No answer.</p><p>Three days passed.</p><p>I hadn't touched my laptop.</p><p>I saw Mrs Cole by the elevator. No scarf. No mask.</p><p>"I'm moving out next week. Going to my sister's."</p><p>"I think that's a good idea," I said.</p><p>The elevator opened. Jay was inside.</p><p>He held the door.</p><p>Nobody spoke. But the silence was different now.</p><p>Real.</p><p>We stepped into the lobby. The big screen that used</p><p> to show announcements was blank.</p><p>"I'm going to a café," Jay said. "No Wi-Fi. Just coffee</p><p> and people."</p><p>He looked at me.</p><p>"Do you want to come?"</p><p>Part of me wanted to say yes. I wanted to leave and</p><p> be done with everything. </p><p>But I couldn't shake the feeling that something</p><p> wasn't right.</p><p>"Give me a minute," I said.</p><p>I went back upstairs. One last look at my laptop.</p><p>It was still on. The Mirror's post glowing on the</p><p> screen.</p><p><strong>Then a new message appeared.</strong></p><p>From the encrypted user.</p><p>But Marcus was gone. The servers were wiped.</p><p>Who was still sending these?</p><p>I clicked it.</p><p><strong>A picture</strong><strong>.</strong></p><p>Taken from outside my window.</p><p>Me. Right now. Sitting at this desk.</p><p>Four words below it:</p><p><strong>"You left. I didn't."</strong></p><p>I ran to the window.</p><p>The street was empty.</p><p>But right under the streetlight across the road, there</p><p> was a single red rose.</p><p>And behind it, barely visible in the shadows,</p><p> <strong>someone was standing.</strong></p><p><br/></p><p><img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/1000068304.jpg"/></p><p><strong>Watching.</strong></p><p><strong>Waiting.</strong></p><p><strong>Smiling.</strong></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>🌸📖 The End</p>

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