The Account Under the Bed
The work gave me somewhere to put the fear.
Chapter 7 — The Fourth Floor
Our suite was cool and dim after the glare of the beach, the air conditioning humming, the curtains half-drawn against the afternoon.
It smelled of the fresh flowers the resort replaced each morning and, faintly, of the sea.
I locked the door behind me and stood for a second in the quiet, listening.
No water running.
No voices.
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