Near midnight, Hesta woke up alone from the soft bed.
At about six o'clock in the afternoon that day, Mrs. Ravitt, who worked as a dormitory administrator, delivered three 29-inch packages, one of which was a black suitcase. From toiletries to a change of clothes, everything is available here.
Mrs. Lavitt, in her forties or fifties, looked as affable as Valenti, with short, light-blond hair, and helped Hestad send out her first e-mail since entering the base.
After she left, Hestad didn't pack her luggage at all. She fell on the bed tiredly and fell asleep quickly, until the harsh cracking sound suddenly came from the living room, and Hestad suddenly woke up.
She slowly sat up and looked in the direction of the living room - it seemed that the mirror she had deliberately pushed away in the afternoon was broken after all.
A familiar sob and comforting whisper came from the living room outside. Hesta listened for a while in the darkness. The cry felt very familiar to her... It seemed that it was the one she had heard in the bathroom in the afternoon.
Hesta went down quietly, and she heard intermittent conversations coming from the living room. Although she wasn't sure if this was a good time to say hello, her hand was already twisting down on the doorknob.
What she didn't expect was that the moment she opened the door, another door diagonally opposite also opened.
"Excuse me?" A silver-haired girl poked her head out from behind the door, "I have to get up at seven o'clock tomorrow morning to participate in special training. Can you please be quieter?"
Turan's crying stopped suddenly, but because of this sudden stop, her sobs became even louder.
"Thank you." The door quickly closed again, and in the gap at the last moment, Hestad's eyes briefly met hers - they were also a pair of blue eyes, and Hestad saw the eyebrows on her left eyebrow. There are three metal bone nails on the bones, and there are complex tattoo patterns on the bare shoulders.
There was a "bang", and the girl's face in the shadow disappeared. Only the band poster on her door looked at the three people in the living room with a provocative and teasing look.
The girl who had been comforting Turan softly turned around and said, "Are you the new guy here today?"
"Yeah." Hesta nodded.
"I'm Liz Fletcher," she showed a helpless smile, "Would you like to come and sit in my room?"
…
A few minutes later, Hesta sat in Liz Fletcher's room with a cup of hot cocoa. Liz gave her a thin blanket to wrap her naked calves and feet out of fear that she would be cold.
Liz has short apricot brown hair, which is slightly lighter than Tulan's. A faint band of freckles ran from her left cheek through the bridge of her nose to her right cheek. There were also some less obvious goggle marks on her eye sockets, and there were also dim black and white lines on her wrists.
The index and middle fingers of Liz's left hand were covered with band-aids, and the edges were slightly raised. It seemed that they had not been replaced for several days. Hesta could tell that these were the marks left by her recent mission.
The hot cocoa prepared by Liz for Turan was kept on the bedside table. Turan didn't drink a sip. She curled up into a ball and faced the wall and choked. Liz still gently stroked Turan's back to comfort her. Holding her.
Hesta held the hot cocoa that was equally sweet and bitter. After taking a sip, she didn't drink it again.
She silently looked at the room - it was filled with bookshelves of different heights, and every bookshelf was filled to the brim. But even so, there were still a lot of books stacked beside the bed and on the corner of the table. Liz cut them out by herself. A few off-white grid sheets were thrown over it to keep out dust.
There is a picture frame hanging on the wall beside the bed, but what is framed in the frame is not a picture, but a long-used leather gun holster. It is nailed to the center of the picture frame, and the leather buckle hangs in the air. , has been worn and turned white.
A brown button accordion hangs opposite the end of the bed. The bellows looks very clean, without any dust, so it can be seen that it is used frequently.
After a while, Hesta put down the mug, and she looked down the bookshelf at hand until she saw a copy of "Edgar's Dark Tales" and stopped.
"Your name is Jane Hesta, right?" Liz suddenly called her from behind. Hesta turned around and found that Liz and Turan had turned over at some point and looked at her. aside.
Turan was lying on Liz's lap. Her eyes and nose were all red. At this moment, she was holding the pillow in her arms. Her brown hair was tied into a ponytail casually and fell on Liz's lap.
"Yes." Hesta replied, "Miss Valenti Viking sent me here this afternoon."
"I know." Liz smiled, "Miss Valenti also sent me your information this afternoon... From now on, until I leave the training base in September, I will be your assistant officer, except for daily classes. Outside of training time, if you encounter any problems, you can come to me or Turan."
"I can't help you much." Turan muttered.
"Haha, what are you talking about?" Liz tapped Turan on the head.
Hesta suddenly remembered the pair of ice-blue eyes he saw in the crack of the door just now: "Who is the one next door?"
"Her name is Rico, and she came here last year." Liz replied, "I, Turan, and Rico are the third-year students, the second-year students, and the first-year students here respectively. In theory, we are all obliged to do our best in the next time." I will help you. But Rico is a bit special. If she offends you in any way in her life later, please don’t mind—she is mentally unstable and is still receiving treatment.”
"Unstable?"
"Usually after the 'training' is over, daily life is fine." Liz replied with a smile, "What were you looking at just now?"
"The Dark Tales of Edgar." Hesta pointed to the spine of the book, "This collection of stories has been read to me before."
"Really?" Liz's eyes lit up, "This book is relatively popular in the first district. I finally got the whole volume... Who read it to you?"
Hesta was silent and did not answer, so Liz hesitated whether she should ask this question. But soon, she suddenly said: "...It doesn't matter anymore. What she read to me was not the thriller story in it, but specially selected... fragments related to interior decoration."
"Renovation? He is an expert," Liz felt even more surprised. "I remember that Edgar admired the decoration style in the west of the third district very much. He even wrote a special article "The Philosophy of Decoration"."
Hesta looked at Liz: "Do you like Edgar too?"
Liz smiled and shook her head, "I took this book purely because I took an elective course on Gothic literature. Except for the first "Black Cat", I haven't read it since... What about you? ?Which story here do you like best?"
Hesta took down the second volume of the book and flipped it through skillfully. After flipping through it several times, she quickly found the part that she had heard and read many times.
"Would you like to hear it, Miss Fletcher?"
"Please call me Liz." Liz looked at Hesta with a smile.
"Liz."
"Then...please."
