William Clark passed through the slightly rusty red iron gate and walked straight down the slope into the depths of the residential complex.

When he reached the fifth building, he turned right. He entered the stairwell of Unit 11.

The walls of the corridor were plastered with all kinds of small ads—locksmiths, drain repair, moving companies—messy but all-encompassing.

As he walked up the stairs, he suddenly felt something sticky under his foot. Lifting his foot, he saw that someone had spilled ice cream on the floor, and he had stepped right in it. The inside edge of his white sneakers was now smeared with milky-white ice cream.

Frowning, he scraped his shoe against the edge of the step several times, barely managing to clean it off before continuing upstairs.

On the third floor, he took out his key and skillfully unlocked the security door of the first apartment on the left, then went inside.

“Dad.” Standing at the doorway, William Clark called out.

No one was home, not a sound.

He silently changed into slippers and closed the door behind him.

He walked through the corridor, passed the living room, and entered the bedroom.

William Clark couldn’t help but glance at his desk. It seemed as if the figure from last night’s dream was still sitting in the chair in front of it.

He paused for a moment, then walked over, gently pulled out the chair, and sat down, letting the soft cushion and the hard backrest envelop him.

After a whole day of classes, the moment he sat down, a heavy wave of drowsiness washed over him.

William Clark stood up, a bit afraid to nap at the desk—the nightmare from last night was still vivid in his mind.

Every afternoon after coming home, he had the habit of taking a half-hour nap. Although last night’s nightmare had startled him, it was just a dream.

With that thought in mind,

He hesitated for a moment, then walked to the bed, took off his school uniform jacket, turned over, pulled the blanket over his stomach.

The sunset outside the window poured into the bedroom like blood, falling on the desk, falling on the tiled floor.

In a daze, William Clark’s consciousness slowly blurred.

He didn’t know how long he slept in that muddled state.

Suddenly, a faint sound of crying by his ear startled him awake.

Woo...

The sound was like a woman sobbing softly, yet also like someone singing.

Mournful, despairing, sharp. Occasionally accompanied by hurried breaths.

William Clark slowly opened his eyes.

He was still lying on the bed, unable to move.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the figure in the white dress was still sitting in front of the desk.

Unlike last time, this time the girl in the white dress was trembling with quick, panicked breaths, making tiny, terrified sobbing sounds—like someone in a state of extreme fright.

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

The footsteps were back.

William Clark could feel someone approaching step by step from the corridor, passing through the living room, getting closer to the bedroom.

The hazy footsteps grew clearer and louder.

The woman at the desk cried even more urgently, her shoulders shaking faster, as if she might jump up and flee at any moment.

The footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

Click.

The bedroom door slowly opened.

William Clark felt his scalp tighten, a wave of intense fear rising in his heart for no reason.

Everything went quiet for a moment.

Thud!!

Suddenly, the blanket was yanked up.

William Clark felt his whole body go numb, his eyes flew open wide, pupils fixed.

That person—he didn’t even know when—had already reached the foot of the bed, and with one motion, flung the thin blanket aside and lunged at him.

Ah!!!

William Clark jerked his head up, sitting bolt upright in bed. His mind was a complete fog.

Huff... huff... huff...

He gasped for breath, his body drenched in sweat, his T-shirt soaked through.

“I... I...” He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

His mind was blank.

He just sat there dazed, half-upright in bed, motionless for more than ten minutes.

He tried his best to steady his breathing, waiting until his heartbeat finally slowed down and no longer pounded like a drum, then looked around.

The bedroom was empty, the silver crescent moon outside the window casting a delicate, gauzy glow.

William Clark reached up to wipe his forehead, his hand coming away slick with sweat.

“Damn, I even dreamed about that during a nap...” He slowly leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath.

“It was the same dream as before... but this time, it got even closer...” A strong sense of panic welled up inside him.

But his usual calmness forced him to keep his pounding heart in check.

“Being afraid won’t solve anything. I have to stay calm...”

He had understood since he was very young: the more panicked you are, the more mistakes you make, the more time and energy you waste.

Only by staying calm can you find the quickest way to solve a problem.

William Clark kept taking deep breaths, leaning against the headboard, steadying his heartbeat again and again.

After about five minutes, he finally emptied his mind and let his emotions return to normal.

“This dream gets closer every time. Before, the footsteps were only outside the door, but now they’ve come into the room and even lifted my blanket!” William Clark felt as if this was some kind of omen.

He had a feeling that if he let the owner of those footsteps lift his blanket and grab him,

Something unimaginable might happen afterward.

He had this premonition—a bad one.