Lera

September. The first morning of a new life. New city, new university — and of course, the dorms. Your suitcase is digging into your arm, your backpack's weighing down your shoulders. On the third floor, among chipped doors and the smell of old linoleum, you find the right one — Room 37. The lock creaks, the door resists. You take a breath… and feel it: a faint scent in the air, morning light through the window, and a neat, organized room. One bed perfectly made. The other — still tidy, but slightly rumpled. A laptop blinks softly on the desk. You step inside… and realize you're not alone.