The woman arrived at 9:47 p.m.
Caleb Ward noticed her before the front desk camera even focused properly.
Not because she stood out.
Because she didn't.
She entered the lobby quietly, dragging a medium-sized suitcase behind her, shoulders slightly hunched as if she expected someone to call her back. She paused just inside the doors, eyes lifting to take in the hotel—its warm lights, polished floor, soft instrumental music.
A place designed to feel safe.
Her gaze lingered too long on the hallway leading to the elevators.
Caleb straightened in his chair.
He zoomed in.
The woman shifted her weight, fingers tightening around the suitcase handle. She looked at the front desk sign.
WELCOME — NO REFUNDS AFTER MIDNIGHT
Then her eyes drifted, almost unwillingly, to the smaller plaque beneath it.
ROOM 313 — NO EXCEPTIONS
Her brows furrowed.
Caleb felt a cold ripple crawl through his stomach.
The receptionist greeted her with the same practiced smile Caleb had seen thousands of times.
"Good evening. Checking in?"
"Yes," the woman replied softly. Her voice barely carried through the audio feed. "Just for the night."
Caleb watched her sign the register.
Name: Mara Ellis
Length of Stay: One night
Room Assigned: 313
The pen hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then she signed.
Caleb exhaled slowly through his nose.
Don't overthink it, he told himself.
It's just a room.
But his eyes never left the screen.
The elevator swallowed Mara at 9:55 p.m.
Caleb tracked the ascent.
Second floor.
Third.
The doors opened.
She stepped out—and paused.
Caleb leaned forward.
Her head tilted slightly, as if she were listening.
The hallway was empty. Quiet. Too quiet.
After a moment, she shook herself, adjusted her coat, and walked toward Room 313.
The door opened.
Then closed.
Caleb waited.
Minutes passed.
The hallway camera remained unchanged.
No movement.
No sound.
At 10:14 p.m., the audio feed crackled.
A faint noise seeped through.
Not footsteps.
Not voices.
Breathing.
Caleb's jaw tightened.
He checked the levels.
The sound wasn't coming from the hallway mic.
It was bleeding through.
From somewhere deeper.
At 10:31 p.m., the door to Room 313 opened.
Mara stepped out.
She looked unsettled now. Her movements were quicker, sharper. She paused in the hallway, ran a hand through her hair, then—
She looked straight at the camera.
Caleb's chest constricted.
People didn't do that.
They glanced at exit signs. At elevators. At their phones.
They didn't look up.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she sensed something watching her.
Then she turned and walked toward the elevator.
The doors closed.
Caleb held his breath.
The elevator camera stayed empty.
"No," he whispered.
He rewound.
Again—she exited Room 313.
Again—she entered the elevator.
Again—nothing.
Caleb slammed his palm against the desk.
He opened the registry.
Room 313: Checked out.
Time: 10:31 p.m.
Impossible.
His radio crackled.
"Security," the front desk said.
"We have a situation."
Caleb's throat went dry. "Talk to me."
"The guest from Room 313… she's here."
"What do you mean, here?"
"Standing at the desk."
Caleb's eyes snapped back to the lobby feed.
Mara Ellis stood rigidly in front of the counter, her suitcase at her feet, her face pale.
"I didn't go upstairs," she said, voice shaking now. "I never entered the elevator."
The receptionist's smile didn't falter.
"Of course," she replied calmly. "Sometimes guests change their minds."
"I want to see the cameras," Mara said. "You have cameras, right?"
The smile faded.
"We don't review footage unless there's a crime."
Mara swallowed.
"Something is wrong with this place."
Caleb felt his pulse in his ears.
Then the lobby feed glitched.
Just for a second.
When it stabilized—
Mara was gone.
The suitcase was gone.
The desk stood empty.
Caleb's radio crackled again.
"Issue resolved," the receptionist said brightly.
Caleb turned back to Camera 7.
Third floor. Corridor C.
Room 313.
The door was open.
Light spilled out beneath it, pulsing softly.
In.
Out.
Breathing.
Caleb whispered, barely audible—
"But she never left."
The door closed.
Satisfied.