hotel room, I could still feel the tension in my body. The prepaid phone I had used for the booking suddenly felt contaminated, as if
it connected us back to whatever had happened in that house. I smashed it against the furniture until it broke apart. Mara said nothing. She just sat beside me, holding my hand.
The next morning, I went to the police and filed a report. I gave them everything: the photos, the detector cover, the screenshot of the host’s message. The officer listened, frowned, and
