Laila Tak Pulang

After breaking into my neighbor’s apartment in the housing block, I froze in shock at the sight of the bathtub overflowing with thick, black liquid. As far as I remembered, there had never been any plumbing issues in our building.

When I dipped my finger in, I realized it wasn’t water — it was ink. My fingertips brushed against a thin membrane, smooth like strands of hair.

Inside the tub was a body, its spine arched and neck twisted downward. But the clues I found didn’t lead to answers — they forced me into silence. Because that discovery would drag in my sister, Laila — the only family I had left, the one I loved with every breath.

The worst part is, that was only a fragment of the secret she had been hiding all along.