Chapter 3
Scott: [Sorry. I'm really, really sorry, everyone. That mess was all on me.
[I was stupid. The meat went bad yesterday, so I figured I'd chop it up, boil it, wash the scraps down, and give the bones to the stray dogs.
[But I totally forgot to use a strainer, so all the boiled pig hair and bits ended up right in the sink. I'm really sorry!]
As he spoke, he sent a photo to the group.
They were the shopping coupons from the local supermarket.
Scott: [I'm really sorry, guys. I've got a dozen coupons here. I'll give them away later when I'm done. Apology.]
The vibe in the group chat took a subtly ironic turn in that instant.
The neighbors who had just been ranting about the mess were now holding themselves back.
The old man who always lost sleep said, [Come on, Scott, just be careful next time.]
The neighbor on the second floor chimed in, [Yeah, the pipes are pretty finicky. You can't just dump stuff down there.]
Another neighbor replied, [No big deal. Everyone slips up now and then.]
Giana, on the first floor, softened her tone. [Just don't let it happen again, okay? That smell was awful.]
No one mentioned that hair-like mess again. And nobody wondered why pig bristles would be that long.
With benefits in hand and a story that sounded legit, everyone just went along with it and pretended nothing was wrong.
Staring at the screen flooded with understanding messages, I felt a cold seeping right into my bones.
To check if my suspicions were right, I had to step outside for a bit.
As I opened the door, a strange smell filled the hallway.
It was a mix of air freshener and some harsh chemical scent, the concentration so thick that it could choke people.
I made a point of taking the stairs instead of the elevator.
As I passed by Room 404, I slowed down.
The front door of Room 404 was firmly shut, and the old doormat had been swapped out for a brand new one.
There were still wet spots along the edges of the doorway, not fully dry yet.
Scott was cleaning up.
He wasn't just scrubbing inside. He was even tidying up the hallway outside his door.
I headed downstairs, acting like I was working out in the yard, but my gaze was locked on the balcony of Room 404 the whole time.
This was an old apartment building, and all the balconies had open security bars.
Whenever I passed by downstairs, I'd always see clothes hanging all over the balcony of Room 404.
Scott was too lazy, so Melody handled all the laundry.
Melody loved keeping things spotless, so the balcony was always lined with colorful dresses, sheets, and women's underwear.
But today, the balcony was almost empty.
Just a couple of pairs of Scott's work pants were hanging all alone in the corner.
I wanted to know where Melody's clothes were.
If she were just visiting her parents, there was no way she'd take all the wet clothes off the balcony with her.
That didn't make sense unless the owner of those clothes was never coming back for them.
"Ms. Moreno? Fancy seeing you here." A voice came from right behind me, so close that it sent chills down my spine.
I spun around, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest.
Scott was standing right behind me. I had no clue when he showed up.
He was holding two black plastic bags and wearing a gray tank top. Across his skin were several fresh red scratches.
The scratches were already starting to scab over, but their shapes showed that they were caused by fingernails.
"Oh... Mr. Reese," I forced a stiff smile, doing my best not to glance at the bags in his hands. "Taking out the trash?"
"Yeah, just did a big clean-up at home. Ended up with a bunch of junk," Scott replied.
He flashed a big, goofy smile, but his eyes weren't smiling at all. They were locked onto my face, studying every twitch and flicker in my expression.
The sharp smell of bleach clung to him, so strong that it drowned out the summer heat.
"Uh..." I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my palm, trying to look as normal as possible.
I said, "Hey, where's Melody been? I haven't seen her around for a few days. I was hoping to borrow her steamer."
Scott's eyes narrowed for a moment.
It was just a flash, but I noticed it.
"Ugh, don't even get me started," he sighed, his face giving nothing away. "We had a fight, and she took off to her parents'. You know how she is, hot-headed as hell.
"She left so fast that she didn't even grab her phone or any clothes. Now I can't reach her at all, and I'm really stressed about it."
She left without her clothes or her phone.
Then who was that 100-pound slab of meat last night? And whose long hair was blocking the drain?
My legs were shaking, but I had to keep up the act. "Oh, you know this is how it is. Couples fight, and then make up. She'll be back in a few days. I'm gonna go grab some groceries now."
With that, I turned to leave.
"Ms. Moreno," Scott suddenly called out behind me.
I stopped, my back still turned to him, every muscle locked up tight.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Scott's voice was soft, almost playful. "Did my dog keep you up last night?"
He absolutely didn't have a dog.
He knew I was well aware he didn't have a dog.
He was showing his hand.