(The second update is here; there will be another one, but it will be a bit late.)
But then again, why should I be afraid of being discovered? I haven't done anything shameful. Maybe… it's because I feel guilty, since I've been suspecting that this old woman was up to something.
In fact, she had no issues at all and even considerately came over in the middle of the night to cover me with a blanket.
After the old woman closed the door and left, she didn't head in the direction of her own place; instead, she walked past the window of my room and went towards the other side.
What could she be doing in the middle of the night? Going to the toilet? Impossible, the toilet is in the opposite corner from where she stays, and the direction she was heading, I remembered, was where the coffin was kept.
I pricked up my ears to listen as the footsteps gradually faded. I flipped over, jumped out of bed, quickly put on my shoes and tiptoed to the door, gently opening it a crack.
