I crept up to Tracy's bedroom.

Just like always, the door was tightly shut, and everything inside was quiet. A faint rustling sound, like plastic brushing against itself, drifted through the gap under the door.

"Tracy, are you heading out?" I called out tentatively. No response.

I paused, thinking maybe it was just a plastic bag fluttering from a breeze through an open window.

I casually tried the doorknob.

The door opened—it wasn't locked.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, stunned. Curiosity about the mystery that surrounded Tracy tugged at me, tempting me to step inside.

After a brief hesitation, I made up my mind and gently pushed the door open.

A delicate fragrance, laced with her familiar scent, instantly filled the air—it was oddly comforting.

It was my first time seeing her room. It was smaller than I'd imagined.

By the window sat a single bed, and beside it were two pale pink wardrobes. Off to the side, a small desk with a computer stood neatly against the wall.

The room was spotless, immaculately organized. The only odd thing was the clothing rack—there wasn't a single shirt or jacket hanging on it. Instead, it was lined with lingerie, plus black and white stockings draped side by side.

I glanced twice before quickly looking away, feeling oddly embarrassed.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but… a single bed?

No wonder Colin never came over. That bed was way too small for two people to get up to anything.

Following the strange rustling sound, I looked toward the desk. Sitting on top were little plastic bags girls often used to keep their accessories, and under the faint neon glow from the window, I could clearly see them moving—twitching, even—like something inside was squirming.

But… the windows were shut tight. There wasn't a trace of wind in the room!

I leaned in for a closer look.

In each bag was a plant—each about the length of a finger and shaped like a little twig.

The bags were sealed, but the plants inside were moving, pressing toward each other like they were alive, gently wriggling against the plastic.

What the hell were these things?

I scratched my head, a little amused. I guessed that weird sound came from these things after all.

Seeing nothing dangerous, I turned to leave. That was when my eyes caught something odd on the top shelf of the desk.

It was a little straw doll, crudely made from dried grass, dangling from a hook. Its eyes were pitch-black beads, and three embroidery needles were stabbed into the top of its head.

Right through the chest, a large pushpin was brutally jammed into a red heart.

A voodoo doll? A curse doll?

Why the hell would Tracy have something like this?

I picked it up and flipped it over. On the doll's back, stuck to the straw with a white label, was a name written in bold black letters—[Colin Booth].

My boss!

Damn.

I jerked back in shock. This woman… she wasn't playing around.

I was just about to set the creepy thing down and get the hell out when suddenly, a strange, chilling laugh echoed right by my ear. The doll's mouth twisted open in a wicked grin and, with a snap, it bit down hard on my finger!

What the hell?! It was alive?

With no time to think, I flung it away and turned to bolt.

But before I could take a single step, a wave of dizziness hit me. My legs gave out, and the room spun before everything went black.

-

I had no idea how long I was out. When I came to, my whole body felt heavy, especially my stomach, like something was weighing it down.

I moved my hand instinctively, and it landed on something soft. Warm.

I gave it a squeeze. It felt... weirdly nice.

"You're up, Honey?" Tracy murmured sleepily from beside me.

What the…?!

My eyes flew open.

There she was—on top of me, her limbs tangled with mine.

And we were in my bedroom.

This was our first time this close.

As my panic flared, I quickly pushed her off. "Wh-what are you doing in my room?!"

I already knew what that soft, squishy feeling had been.

She yawned, sat up in her thin sleepwear—nothing underneath—and said lazily, "You fell asleep in the bathroom!"

"In the bathroom?" I stared at her, completely confused.

"Yeah! I came back late last night and found you passed out next to the toilet, fast asleep… You were still holding a lit cigarette. You burned your hand and almost set the house on fire. Does it still hurt?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned.

I looked at my right hand. Sure enough, there was a bandage wrapped around my index finger. I brought it closer to my face—there was a faint smell of burn cream.

And that spot—wasn't that the exact same place where the doll had bitten me last night?

But if I burned it with a cigarette… wouldn't both my fingers have gotten it?

"Honey, what are you thinking about?" Tracy was now resting her chin in her hands, those big, sparkly eyes staring at me.

"N-nothing," I mumbled.

No way I was going to tell her what I'd seen last night. I was sure I passed out in her room… So how did I end up by the toilet?

Could everything I saw after entering her room have just been… a dream?

I'd always been a skeptic, never believing in ghosts or voodoo dolls. Dolls that bite people? Seriously?

I decided to keep it to myself, at least for now.

A glance at the wall clock made me jump—it was already past 9:00 AM.

"Crap, I've got a meeting. I'm gonna be late!" I jumped out of bed in a rush.

It was Saturday, a day off, normally. But my boss's wife had called a planning session today and invited a bunch of us into the office.

I had just thirty minutes. I hurried to get ready.

Meanwhile, Tracy was lying there on my bed, still in her sleepwear, casually scrolling on her phone without a care in the world.

"Uh… Tracy? Mind stepping out for a second so I can change?"

She didn't even blink. "I'm your wife. Why can't I watch you get dressed?"

What the heck?

Was she high? Or was this some weird prank?

Or worse—had Colin's wife installed a hidden camera in my room and was watching this live, like some kind of sick reality TV?

This was way too messed up.

I muttered something random in reply and grabbed my clothes. Then I got dressed as fast as I could, splashed my face with cold water, and bolted out the door.

I took the bus and made it to the office just in time for the meeting.

Rachel wasn't there, but Colin was.

Holding my folder, I checked the clock—still a few minutes to spare. One of the guys came over, grinning, and started teasing me.

He said I was the luckiest guy alive, that he would never nail such a beautiful wife.

Then he asked if Tracy and I had "gotten to the good part" yet.

I shot him a look and stayed quiet.

He chuckled and leaned in like he was about to press the issue, but I wasn't in the mood.

That was when Colin stormed in with a sour expression, flipping through a stack of papers. "Enough chit-chat. Get to the meeting room. Tracy, you're taking notes today."

Wait, what?

The sound of high heels clicking against the floor rang out as Tracy walked in behind him, looking all business: blazer, skirt, black stockings, laptop in hand.

I froze.

Wasn't she just at home?

We all followed behind Tracy and headed into the conference room.

The moment we stepped inside, Colin started yelling at us without warning. He laid into everyone with a harsh scolding, and we were all left blinking at each other, completely confused.

From what we could gather, an out-of-town order had fallen through. Apparently, someone in the company had messed up, and it cost us the deal.

It had something to do with our reputation. Word was, someone had too much to drink and started running their mouth, saying all kinds of nonsense about the company.

The client ended up thinking that the company was a total mess.

In the end, they backed out. The contract we were supposed to sign next week was cancelled.

We were all exchanging looks, each of us wondering who the idiot was.

After Colin finally cooled off, he got down to business. The meeting turned to what we were going to do about it, and eventually, Colin said he'd handle the negotiations himself next week.

The meeting lasted around half an hour. Afterward, one of my coworkers grumbled as he walked over, eyebrows knit. "Seriously, dragging us in on the weekend for this?"

I replied, "Right? Wasn't Mrs. Booth the one who called the meeting? How'd it end up being Mr. Booth instead?"

My coworker shrugged. "Who knows with those two. Whatever's going on between them, salarymen like us aren't meant to understand."

As the meeting ended and I headed downstairs, I ran into Tracy, who was holding her bag.

"Honey? Honey, wait up!" she called.

I paused by the stairwell. "Weren't you lounging at home? What are you doing here all of a sudden?"

She was fully made-up—foundation, lipstick, the works. Stunning as always.

Judging by how long it usually took her to get ready, she must've spent at least half an hour putting herself together.

She said, "Oh, right after you left, Mr. Booth called me and told me to come to the meeting too."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, you got ready fast."

She laughed. "Women can be quick when they want to be. It's the men who shouldn't be fast."

I couldn't help but chuckle. I caught the dirty joke right away.

On the bus ride home, I asked, "Nothing going on today?"

She shook her head. "Nope. It's the weekend; what could I have going on?"

But what I really meant was, why was she heading home with me this early? Shouldn't she be off somewhere with Colin on weekends?

I asked, "Is Mrs. Booth staying home?"

She frowned a little. "No idea. Why do you keep bringing them up?"

I scratched my head, not sure how to reply.

The bus was packed. What was I supposed to do? Ask her outright why she wasn't off cuddling up with Colin, or whether his wife was home so they couldn't sneak around?

I kept my mouth shut and dropped the subject.

The next few days passed quietly, just like always. Tracy stayed close, sticking to me like glue. Honestly, it was starting to feel like… like she really was my wife.

Then came another weekend morning. I woke up feeling something heavy on my chest. I didn't even have to look—I already knew Tracy had snuck into my room again while I was sleeping.

I pulled the covers back, looked down, and there she was, fast asleep. She was wearing a thin tank top, her pale, smooth skin glowing in the morning light. Her curves were impossible to ignore.

I mean, I was a normal man. With her throwing herself at me like this, I'd probably need to get checked out if I didn't do something about it.

While she slept, I leaned in and kissed her. She slowly opened her eyes but didn't pull away.

I wrapped my arms around her. She moved closer, resting her face on my chest.

In that moment, my whole body felt like it was on fire. I was excited—who wouldn't be? But more than that, I was confused.

Just a few days ago, she wouldn't even let me into her room. Now she was all over me like this?

I rolled on top of her, ready to take the next step, but she suddenly gasped and pushed at me. "No—don't!"

"Huh?" My pants were already halfway off. Was she being serious?

"Anything but that," she begged. "Please."

She was trembling, her body curled up. She looked terrified.

I asked, "Why not? Is it that time of the month?"

She shook her head.

Judging by the look on her face, I knew it wasn't happening. Not today.

With a sigh, I turned over.

She snuggled up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I picked up my phone to check my messages.

There was a missed call and a text—both from Tracy.

The timestamp said it was sent just after midnight.

I opened the message, and what I read hit me like a punch to the chest.

[Honey, Mr. Booth asked me to go on a business trip with him to Joselton. I'll probably be gone for three or four days. Take care of yourself, okay? Don't skip breakfast. Love, Tracy]

Tracy had left for a trip last night?

Then who the hell was the woman lying behind me right now?