Chapter 7 · free to read
Morning came, and the building simply did not have a ninth floor. Not sealed. Not hidden. Never built.
Eight wards on eight floors. The board had always said so. It was everybody else's memory that had quietly been corrected.
Not erased. Unwritten. There is a difference, and standing there with her wet shoes, Ploy could feel it.
Nobody remembered Sister Um. Nobody remembered Room 9. The only clock in the building that still agreed with the three of them was a cracked one.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.