Why is there no light at all? I slowly stepped back, trying to retreat to the corner to find a sense of security. But I stepped on something sharp under my foot, and I was startled. It took me a while to confirm that it was my doll.

This doll...

I turned around and squatted down. In the place where I had stepped on earlier, I found a hard object.

It was a small, compact object hidden in the doll's sole. I turned on the flashlight on my phone and quickly cut the doll into pieces with scissors.

After a moment, a black recording device appeared in front of me.

Clearly, someone had been in my room and placed this recording device inside the doll. The other person must want to know my movements.

And, if I'm not mistaken, this person must know me well.

Because besides the people close to me, no one else knows that I like to talk to myself.

This habit developed after my ex-husband died.

I raised an eyebrow, thinking about soaking it in a cup, but hesitated at the moment I was about to do it.

I searched for the sound of a woman crying on my phone and placed it next to the recording pen, then quietly retreated to the bathroom and turned on the faucet.

The sound of water rushing and the sound of a woman crying intertwined, enough to make it sound authentic.

After doing all this, I held the doorknob, ready to open the door at any time.

But just then, the phone rang again.

I squinted at the vibrating phone not far behind me and didn't approach it.