Chapter 222: But who was she, really?

The door slowly opened, and a delicate, refreshing scent wafted out from the room.

Ryan slightly furrowed his brow, sensing something different—this fragrance was definitely not there when he lived here before.

Looks like the new tenant really shook things up.

Not knowing who the person was, he shouldn’t have barged in impulsively.

Ryan flared his nostrils, sniffing the air with a hint of hesitation, ready to back out immediately.

This scent seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it, probably just a fleeting encounter.

If it had been the scent of winter daphne, like Miss Alice wore, Ryan would have recognized it instantly.

But before he could retreat, he glanced at the room’s layout. Just one look, and he was thunderstruck, rooted to the spot.

The thought had been fleeting,no changes outside didn’t mean there were none inside.

After all, with a new tenant, even if the locks weren’t changed, the room’s setup was bound to be altered somewhat.

However, the scene in the room now wasn’t just drastically different from when he left,it was exactly the same.

For a moment, Ryan felt like he had stepped back a month, just coming home like usual.

The familiar setup, every detail eerily the same.

The TV unplugged because he never used it, the electric kettle carelessly left on the side table for easy water boiling.

These habits were uniquely his, unlikely to be shared by anyone else, at least in his view.

Anyone else living here would surely adjust the room to suit their own habits.

But…

“Has anyone really lived here?”

Ryan muttered to himself, unable to believe his eyes.

He had only hoped the new tenant wouldn’t toss his notebook out like trash, but now, nothing had changed, not even a notebook.

“Just grab the notebook and go,” Ryan thought, looking around the familiar scene, unable to feel at ease.

It wasn’t paranoia,something was definitely off, as if someone had infiltrated his life without his knowledge.

Ryan didn’t leave,instead, he tiptoed further into the room.

Since he was already here, he might as well retrieve his notebook.

Leaving everything else untouched seemed reasonable enough for a former tenant reclaiming his belongings.

And if he didn’t do it today, he’d have to wait another week, and who knows what would happen to Anna by then.

Comforting himself with these thoughts, Ryan headed for the bedroom.

In his memory, the notebook should be in the bedroom’s bookcase, and if nothing else had been moved, it should still be there.

Stealthily, almost like a thief, which felt bizarre in his own place.

The room was still empty, and the closer he got to the bedroom, the stronger the sweet, cloying scent became.

Unlike the cold scent of winter daphne, this fragrance was sweet and enticing, like an ethereal hand pulling him further inside. It was the scent of iris.

“Sure enough, it’s still here.”

After entering the room, Ryan walked straight to the bookcase. After a brief search, his face lit up as his hand found the notebook.

He pulled the notebook out, its corners slightly curled but the phone numbers still legible.

Tucking the notebook into his chest, Ryan turned to leave.

Every second here felt uncomfortable, as if invisible eyes were constantly watching him.

Trust and connection are vital between people, and this utterly trustless connection sent chills down his spine.

What was this person thinking? Why keep his setup? Was there really a point in living here?

“Let’s go, just go.”

Saying this, Ryan didn’t dare delay, but just then, something caught his eye.

His steps slowed, and he frowned deeply at his own bed.

This was not good, not good at all.s instinctively fear danger, yet they’ve created horror and crime films because danger is often tied to curiosity and temptation.

Seeing such a scene, even though he knew he shouldn’t, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder about the new tenant. What kind of person were they, and why go to such lengths?

What he saw next might just give him a clue.

With a tense gaze and after much hesitation, Ryan moved closer to the bed, determined to get a clearer look.

The bedroom was unchanged, even the bed sheets and covers hadn’t been swapped out.

There was only one bedroom, and it seemed the new tenant was sleeping in his old bedding, which Ryan found utterly baffling.

Especially when he saw that black silk item on the bed, his confusion deepened—it looked unmistakably like a pair of black silk stockings.

Black silk stockings? Was the new tenant a woman?

Like Alice, who used to casually toss her clothes around, Ryan didn’t dare look further, afraid of what else he might find.

Even though he had been secretly thrilled to glimpse Alice’s private things, seeing this now only weighed heavily on his heart.

The scent in the room seemed to confirm his suspicions.

The new tenant must be someone with a delicate sensibility, someone who would notice the Peace Lily on the windowsill. If it was a woman, it made sense.

Curiosity got the better of Ryan, and he forgot about leaving.

If it was a woman, wouldn’t that make the situation even stranger?

Even as a man, Ryan was somewhat fastidious,sleeping in a bed someone else had used would make him uncomfortable. But the new tenant had done just that?

Why did it feel like this person had come specifically for him?

“That person, maybe they know me.”

Reaching such a conclusion, Ryan just secured the notebook and began looking for evidence to support his theory.

If it really was someone he knew, wouldn’t that be terrifying?

They knew all his habits, even moved into his home and slept in his bed after he left.

Why would she do this? What did she want?

Questions flooded Ryan’s mind as he stepped into the bathroom and stared at the cosmetics on the mirror, silent.

There weren’t many cosmetics, mostly just simple skincare products, suggesting that this person led a modest life and wasn’t overly concerned with appearances.

In the nearby laundry basket, there were some women’s clothes, just a thin layer, likely just a day’s worth of clothing.

The woman seemed younger than him, dressed youthfully—strictly speaking, she was a young girl.

Still simple dresses and shirts, but for some reason, there were blood stains on one of the shirts, which made Ryan’s heart skip a beat.

He felt like he had seen this shirt somewhere before, but the shock was too great at the moment, and he couldn’t recall where, just patting his head in frustration.

He must have seen this person before,otherwise, he wouldn’t have this strange feeling.

But who was she, really? Plain yet clean, normal yet dangerous.

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