chapter 2

I saw that sentence.

My gaze instinctively turned to my mom.

She held her head high, eyes closed.

A blissful smile was on her face.

She reached out, spun, lifted her leg, bent her knee…

No matter the move,

her toes remained taut at all times.

It was as if a string from above was pulling hard at her neck,

stretching her whole body upright.

[LOL, you’re overreacting. Dancers are supposed to stand on tiptoe.]

[So by your logic, all ballet dancers are summoning ghosts?]

Seeing everyone mocking him,

the person continued,

[If I’m not mistaken, these days your mother ties a Red String around her waist while she dances. That Red String has been soaked in Black Dog Blood for seven days; it can lock souls.]

Red String?

Reading this, I felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over me.

Because he was right.

My mom does wear a thin Red String around her waist.

Every time she dances, she puts it on.

She says all her dance troupe sisters do it this way.

It’s supposed to help slim the waist faster.

Today’s Red String-

I was the one who tied it for her.

Thinking back, when I tied it for her today, I did catch a faint metallic smell.

Before I could ask,

that person sent another hurried message:

[Don’t let her dance for a full forty-nine minutes! Stop her, quickly!]