The landlord, Mr. Merith, came by.
"You're still here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Room 303's cursed, you know. Everyone leaves or… dies."
"What happened here?" Sion asked.
Merith only replied: "Just remember — never open the window after midnight. Ghosts don't use doors."
That night, Sion opened the floorboard and found an old journal — names of past tenants. All dead within 30 days.
Elaira appeared again.
"They were all cruel," she said. "Mocked me. Ignored me. Laughed at me. I made sure they felt what I did."
"And me?" Sion asked.
"You listened." Her voice cracked. "You saw me."
Sion turned to her. "You're not a monster, Elaira. You're just… broken."
A long silence passed. Then she whispered:
"Do you think something broken can still be loved?"
Sion didn't answer with words. He stepped forward.
Placed his hand over where her heart used to beat.
"If it couldn't be, I wouldn't be standing here."
Elaira's form flickered… and for the first time, she cried.
Not with tears.
But with light.