Ghost Behind You

1.22. The Guest Registry

Rose didn't wake up until 8 AM, and when she did, she felt sore all over. The fall from the previous night had left its mark—especially on her hip, which now sported a large bruise.

But there was no time to dwell on the pain. Today, she had to start investigating the previous occupants of Room 104. As she washed up, her mind raced with possibilities. If she could find out who the witch was, Zach could take care of the rest. Skipping any makeup—a habit she'd developed as a forensic scientist where cosmetics could interfere with samples—she quickly checked herself in the mirror before heading out. She didn't forget to carefully tuck the talisman Zach had given her into her pocket, feeling somewhat reassured by its presence.

When Rose reached the front desk, no one was there. She assumed the staff were either busy or on break. Without hesitation, she went behind the desk and found the guest registry. Eagerly, she flipped through the pages, scanning the names and dates. The handwriting was sloppy, likely the result of poorly educated staff, but the entries were structured clearly enough, with dates, room numbers, and guest information listed in chronological order.

Hoping for a breakthrough, she flipped back to the first page, but disappointment struck when she saw that the earliest entry was from January 2007. Zach had estimated that the black cat had been buried about 10 months earlier, meaning the witch must have been there between June and September of 2006. This registry wasn't going to help her find the witch's name.

Still, Rose combed through the records for anyone who had stayed in Room 104, hoping there might be something useful. Surprisingly, only two sets of guests had stayed in that room: Zhang Tianhai and Niu Benxin on May 18, 2007, and Gary and Mary on June 15, 2007. Zhang and Niu had only stayed for a few hours before checking out.

Rose noted the names but found it strange that so few people had stayed in Room 104 over the course of six months. While the hotel didn't have high occupancy, this still seemed unusually low—especially considering the room's convenient location on the first floor. Something didn't add up.

Where could the older guest books be? Rose stood up from the desk and began looking around for the receptionist. It was just after 8 AM, likely a slow time between guests finishing breakfast and others still sleeping.

Taking matters into her own hands, Rose started opening the desk drawers, hoping the older records might be stored nearby.

Just as she was about to pull out a drawer, a staff member appeared, looking at her with curiosity. "Can I help you with something?"

Rose felt a wave of relief. She flashed her police badge and explained that she needed to access the earlier guest records.

The staff member looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but the older registries were likely thrown out by the owner. They wouldn't be here anymore."

"What?" Rose felt her frustration rising. Without those earlier records, she had no way of knowing who had stayed in Room 104 before Gary—a vital lead could be lost.

"Where's the owner?" Rose asked, trying to keep her cool.

"He's usually not around in the mornings," the staff member said apologetically. "I'm not sure where he goes."

"And how do you assign rooms?" Rose pressed, wondering if there might be some pattern behind Room 104's low usage.

"We just follow the usual procedure," the staff member replied, still looking confused. "We ask guests if they have any preferences, and if not, we assign rooms based on availability."

"Then why have only four people stayed in Room 104 in six months?" Rose asked, flipping through the registry to show her.

"Oh, that's because Room 104 has the number 4 in it, and in Chinese, 4 sounds like 'death,'" the staff member explained. "The owner told us to avoid assigning it unless necessary. We usually have enough rooms available, so we rarely use it."