Secrets
The Eleventh Step at Dawn
At one o’clock in the morning, I counted the Eleventh Step on the western staircase of my office building.
Resting on that single step was a white sneaker, its laces tied into the same blue dead knot my missing best friend always used.
Five years ago, a woman had died in this building.
Now, the security guard who holds the elevator for me every day looked up and flashed a smile.
“Miss Tang, you shouldn’t go around counting stairs.”
The Earth Master Girl: Fengdu Ghost City
My cousin is dead.
His hands were tied to a ceiling beam, and he was wearing a red dress over a swimsuit-a swimsuit that was still dripping wet.
The police report claimed it was a suicide.
But I know he didn’t kill himself. And I know who’s next.
It’s me. There is no escape.
