Chapter 2
For the next few days, I acted as usual.
I went to class, ate, hit the lab, and headed back to the dorm.
I spoke when needed, smiled when required.
But I no longer allowed Yolanda to touch anything of mine.
Each time she tried to tidy my desk, bring me food, or collect my laundry, I calmly refused.
Every time, she looked at me with those wet, pleading eyes, like someone abandoned by their closest friend.
My roommates couldn't stand it.
One said, "Emily, Yolanda's been so kind to you. Why are you acting so cold lately?"
Another said, "Yeah, she's genuinely good to you. Don't hurt her."
I smiled without offering an explanation.
On the night of March 11th, Yolanda went to the library.
Ten minutes after she left, I locked the dorm door and started my inspection.
First, I checked my medicine kit.
The swapped allergy medication was still there, and I had sealed it away long ago.
Next, I checked my bed.
I lifted the pillowcase and shook it.
There's nothing unusual.
I opened the zipper of the pillow.
My hand paused.
Inside the pillow, in a small compartment, was a tiny bag.
It contained dried flowers- crushed petals and pollen sealed in a clear plastic bag.
The bag's opening had been torn slightly, allowing the pollen to slowly seep into the pillow's filling.
Every night, I pressed my face against that pillow while I slept, breathing in all night.
The pollen would go straight into my respiratory system.
For someone with a severe pollen allergy, that's basically breathing allergens straight into your lungs all night.
In my last life, on March 12th, I had an allergic reaction and was hospitalized.
The doctor had said it was due to the changing season.
Who would have guessed it was because something had been secretly stuffed in my pillow?
I carefully used tweezers to remove the flower bag and placed it in a sealed bag.
Then I replaced it with a new pillow.
On March 12th, I was safe and sound.
No allergic reaction, no hospitalization, nothing.
That evening, Yolanda returned to the dorm and saw me sitting quietly at my desk, reading a book.
Her gaze lingered on my face for two seconds.
It was quick, but I noticed.
She was checking if I had any rashes, swelling, or trouble breathing.
But there was nothing.
Her gaze flickered for a moment.
I closed my book and said casually.
I asked, "Yolanda, the dried flowers you put in my pillow smelled nice. What kind are they?"
The room went quiet for a moment.
Yolanda turned her head, looking utterly confused, "Emily, what are you talking about? I never put anything in your pillow."
"Oh, really?"
I pulled the sealed bag out of my drawer and held it up to the light, "This bag came from inside the pillow compartment. Want to take a look?"
My roommates crowded around.
"Seriously? There are flowers in your pillow?" One said.
"Who would put flowers in a pillow?" Another said.
Yolanda's lips parted. Her eyes started to redden, "Maybe some petals got on your quilt when I aired it out. There are so many flowers blooming in the school garden right now."
But I said, "Petals wouldn't be sealed in a plastic bag."
I turned the bag over.
The plastic bag still had remnants of a torn opening.
Clearly, someone had deliberately opened it and placed the contents inside.
Yolanda couldn't say a word.
Tears fell from her eyes as she twisted her hands together, "I really don't know. Maybe it's some prank. Emily, please don't blame me."
The roommates exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of whom to support.
I didn't push it any further.
The time wasn't right.
I put the sealed bag away and smiled faintly, "Well, maybe I was mistaken."
Yolanda sighed in relief and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
But I noticed that as soon as she returned to her bed, her first action was to reach under her pillow.
Only when she confirmed the notebook was still there did her shoulders relax.
That night, I took the bag of petals to the school's biology lab and asked a senior to help me identify them.
The results came back the next day.
They weren't ordinary flower petals.
It was ragweed pollen mixed with a small amount of mugwort pollen.
These two are the most common and potent allergens for people with pollen allergies.
Hidden among the mixed dried flowers, they were nearly impossible to spot with the naked eye.
I took a photo of the identification report and saved it.
Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a message popped up.
It was from an unknown number.
No name attached.
Just one line.
[The flowers weren't bought by her. Check the Westside Flower & Bird Market, March 5th.]