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178

FEW MONTHS AGO

A few months ago, a familiar feminine figure in a vibrant yellow sweatshirt and a black tennis skirt drove into the misty woods. She followed a narrow, winding road that seemed to go on forever, each turn seemed to take her deeper into the forest, and she was grunted in frustration. Finally, she arrived at her destination and parked in front of a secluded bamboo house. The car’s engine cut off, leaving an eerie silence that matched the dense fog surrounding the place.

She climbed out of the car and took a deep breath, glancing around to ensure she was alone. Pulling out her phone, she studied two pictures. The first was of a bamboo house that looked almost identical to the one before her. The second was of an older woman, probably in her late fifties, with brown eyes and a weary expression. The resemblance between the house in the photo and the one she was standing in front of was uncanny. Satisfied that she was in the right place, she nodded to herself.

Opening the car
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