Anh Ph??ng, Mary, and Join had finally calmed down. Dì T? brought up a tray of ginger tea, each cup warm and fragrant.

  – “Drink this while it’s still hot. It’ll warm you up and keep you from catching a cold.”

  Mr. Tài glanced around and lowered his voice:

  – “Mrs. Linh and the two kids are sleeping. Keep your voices down a bit.”

  C?u D?ng sighed softly.

  – “Sleep? Impossible, bro. Anh Th?’s morning sickness is getting worse, my wife’s looking after her. And Anh ?ào must’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion — she’s been studying non-stop for her master’s exam.”

  Charles nodded in understanding, his tone calm and professional:

  – “Anh Th? is pregnant. Severe morning sickness can come from her constitution or unstable emotions. If it continues, she should see a doctor soon.”

  Hi?u turned to C?u D?ng, speaking gently:

  – “So… can you still go to the tailor to fit the áo Dài tomorrow? Everyone seems exhausted.”

  Join gave a tired smile, his voice warm:

  – “Maybe you’re right. It could be the sleepwalking episodes too. But thanks to Dì T?’s ginger tea, I’m feeling much better now.”

  C?u D?ng leaned his chin into his palm, looking resigned:

  – “The wedding’s in one week, and all this chaos keeps happening. We need to hurry or nothing will be ready.”

  ---

  In another room, Anh ?ào slept deeply.

  Her beautiful face relaxed in the quiet dreamscape — until a moment later, her expression tightened, breaths growing sharp and panicked.

  She jolted awake in the dark, heart pounding.

  – “It was… just a dream…” she whispered, trying to steady her voice.

  She stepped off the bed to grab a glass of water. But the moment her feet touched the floor, a faint creak echoed through the room.

  She frowned.

  – “What was that? Probably just the window…”

  But the creak sounded again — this time not from the window… but from inside her own body.

  Anh ?ào froze.

  Looking down, she saw her skin gradually turning the color of polished wood. Fine wooden grains crawled up her arms, knees, fingers, and toes. Her hair stiffened, her face becoming cold and lifeless — like a lacquered mask.

  She stumbled back, choking on her breath.

  Then, from the ceiling, thin shimmering threads — like glass fishing lines — dropped down. They slithered as if alive, hooking into her joints. An invisible force yanked her upward — her body dangled like a marionette puppet.

  From the darkness above, a childlike voice giggled — a thin, metallic sound that sliced through the air.

  – “Hee hee hee… Hello, little mistress. Do you remember us?”

  Another voice followed, playful yet chilling:

  – “She must’ve forgotten about us… But we remember her very well… hee hee hee…”

  She tried to scream, but her body no longer obeyed her. Her limbs jerked violently, dancing in unnatural motions as the strings pulled tighter.

  When she forced herself to look up, her blood ran cold.

  The dolls she had thrown away years ago stood crowded along the ceiling beams. Their painted smiles cracked wide, glassy eyes gleaming with hunger.

  Each of them held a string — controlling her like a living puppet.

  As their eerie giggles echoed, the lights flickered — as though the ghosts of her forgotten past had finally returned…

  to collect a debt she never knew she owed.

  In the moment Anh ?ào hung suspended in mid-air, several dolls stepped out from the dark corners of the room. They moved like living children, each of their wooden steps echoing sharply through the suffocating silence.

  They climbed onto the sofa opposite her and sat neatly in a row — as if they were the

  audience… waiting to watch a live puppet performance.

  A doll with the face of a young boy, its empty black eyes staring without a blink, tilted its head. Its voice scraped through the room — cold, metallic, and merciless:

  – “You’re enjoying your happiness beside your husband, yet your heart still wanders to another man… Old habits never change.”

  Another doll stepped forward — a little girl with amethyst glass eyes gleaming sharply, like arrows aiming straight at the heart. It let out a shrill giggle before speaking in a chilling, sing-song tone:

  – “You always snatch things that don’t belong to you. When you were little — shoes, dresses, backpacks. Even food — milk cartons, popsicles, cakes, candies — you grabbed them all. And now? You want to steal my man? You — who already have everything — still envy others and try to take what belongs to me!”

  Anh ?ào trembled violently, tears streaming down her wooden-stiffened cheeks. She shook her head in horror:

  – “Who… who are you? How do you know everything about my past?”

  A third doll shuffled forward — this one shaped like a newborn baby, sucking on a rubber pacifier. It slowly lifted its wooden face. Its voice echoed like frost cracking in a winter night:

  – “That’s not all… You and your family stole the inheritance that belonged to me. Your parents killed mine, made me an orphan, forced me to live like a servant. Your comfortable life today — is built on what you stole from me.”

  Anh ?ào thrashed desperately, but the dolls on the ceiling yanked the strings tighter. Her wooden hands slapped violently against her own hardened face, the impact making sickening clack — clack — clack sounds that filled the room like a twisted rhythm.

  Shattered fragments of memory surged back — accusations, images, pieces of a story she tried to bury.

  It was all about Trang, the cousin who had once suffered injustice from her own family — everything the dolls said aligned with that forgotten past.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Her heartbeat pounded painfully. She stuttered, barely forming words:

  – “No… no, that’s impossible! The things you’re saying… that’s her — my cousin! How do you know? What have you found out?”

  The little girl doll’s mouth stretched into a warped, unnatural smile. Its purple glass eyes shimmered with eerie light:

  – “Scared now? You should be… because I’m standing right behind you. This doll is only repeating my words.”

  At that exact moment, a doll behind her tugged gently on one of the puppet strings, forcing Anh ?ào’s wooden head to slowly twist backward.

  Crack… crack… crack!

  The dry grinding of wooden joints echoed sharply — each sound crawling straight into the spine.

  In front of her stood a large mirror. And in it— was the reflection of a young woman with long black hair flowing like silk.

  On her head curved a pair of ram-like horns, elegant yet menacing.

  A crown of black diamonds glimmered at the center of her forehead, swallowing every trace of light around it.

  She sat with her legs crossed on a grand throne — a Queen of the Night, regal and terrifying.

  Behind her, two crimson magic circles rotated in opposite directions, symbols of space and time, scattering cosmic dust with each slow breath of the universe.

  Her blood-red eyes glowed — beautiful and frightening all at once. The gaze pierced straight into the soul. When she spoke, her voice was calm, yet it resonated like it rose from the bottom of an abyss:

  – “Hello, little sister. It’s been a long time since we faced each other like this.

  You’re still the same spoiled, deceitful princess… aren’t you?”

  Anh ?ào tried to turn away, but the doll controlling her string pulled tighter.

  Her neck locked at a stiff 180°, eyelids forced open, unable to blink — she was trapped, staring directly into the mirror.

  Her eyes burned; tears rolled uncontrollably.

  Her voice trembled:

  – “Who are you? Why do you know so much about my past?”

  The shadow in the mirror flipped her hair, lips curling into a chilling smile that felt like it whispered right beside her ear:

  – “I know… you once trapped a gentle young man to climb into a wealthy family.

  And before that?

  You planned the same thing with several rich boys — but they were smarter than Anh Tú… so they escaped your schemes.”

  Laughter erupted — high, sharp, and unnatural.

  The dolls giggled in chorus, their shrill voices twisting the air into suffocating heaviness.

  A boy-faced doll chimed in with a mocking tone:

  – “And here we thought our little mistress was pure and noble…

  Turns out she’s nothing but a gold-digger dressed in innocence.”

  The shadow queen in the mirror tilted her head.

  Her red eyes flashed brilliantly — terrifying, divine, and furious:

  – “Cruel people don’t frighten me.

  Do you know who I fear?”

  Her voice dropped, vibrating like a sentence delivered by a cosmic judge.

  – “Those who do evil… yet hide behind the mask of a victim. Sweet on the outside.

  Rotten on the inside.”

  The doll handling the strings yanked hard on Anh ?ào’s right arm. Her wooden limb stretched unnaturally, and the doll’s carved face split into a smile full of razor-sharp teeth:

  – “Because those people—” it said in a haunting melody

  – “stab us the moment we turn our backs.

  Angelic in front… but behind us? Venomous spiders, quietly chewing on our trust… until the day they decide to kill us.”

  Anh ?ào remained suspended in mid-air as the strings constricted around her wooden joints. Every motion produced a dry creak — hollow and cold, like the cracking of human bones.

  The large mirror fogged over, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

  Within it, the Night Queen lounged on her throne, black hair cascading, her diamond crown blazing.

  She lifted her chin slowly, her smile stretching — allure mixed with the scent of death.

  – “Humans… truly know how to judge each other,” she whispered, her voice echoing across the room.

  – “Anyone with a degree or a pretty face becomes the center of the universe. But inside? A swamp of lies, envy, and ambition.”

  She leaned closer — eyes burning like twin suns of blood.

  – “You’re pursuing a master’s degree, aren’t you? How impressive. But knowledge means nothing when the inside is rotting.

  People should learn to look deeper — not kneel before a polished shell.”

  The dolls cackled again — sharp, cold, like shards of glass shattering across the room:

  – “Hear that, little mistress? A fancy degree doesn’t mean a noble heart.

  Education can’t save a rotten soul…”

  Anh ?ào tried to scream, but her throat was locked. In the dead, glassy eyes of her puppet body, she saw her own reflection — a young woman praised by society as flawless, elegant, and perfect

  Now reduced to nothing more than a hollow puppet, forced to dance to the truth she spent years burying.

  My curled up on the floor, trembling violently. Her skin had turned pale as if all the blood had drained from her body, her eyes unfocused and empty. The image of that monstrous hand still clung to her mind, making her shiver again and again.

  The sound of the doorbell shattered the suffocating silence. Mr. Quy stepped out onto the balcony, looked down, then said quietly:

  – “Doctor Tùng is here. I’ll go open the door.”

  Mrs. Lan and Vú N?m remained beside My, trying to comfort her. My felt her throat burning with dryness and whispered weakly:

  – “Vú N?m… please get me a glass of water… I’m so thirsty…”

  Vú N?m immediately shot up, responding in haste:

  – “Yes, I’ll bring it right away, little mistress.”

  My rested her head on her mother’s lap. Mrs. Lan stroked her hair gently, her voice soft and soothing:

  – “Dad and Mom are always right here with you… don’t worry… keep your beauty safe, my daughter…”

  My frowned slightly.

  That sentence felt odd. Wrong. She lifted her head — And froze.

  Under the warm yellow light, patches of scales were slowly emerging on her mother’s face. The skin peeled like a serpent preparing to shed. When Mrs. Lan spoke again, her voice had changed — lower, colder, detached:

  – “To become beautiful… you must shed your old skin. We serpents have always done this… that’s why we remain young for thousands of years…”

  My screamed in terror and shoved her mother away. In her eyes, not only her mother’s face but her arms and legs were now turning dull, cracked, flaking like reptilian scales.

  – “Monster! Someone help me! It wants — it wants to peel off my skin!!!” My shrieked, thrashing wildly.

  Mrs. Lan panicked, tears forming:

  – “My! What are you saying?! It’s me — your mother! My, snap out of it!”

  But My clutched her head, screaming:

  – “No! You’re not my mother! You’re a demon wearing her skin!”

  Downstairs, just as Dr. Tùng parked his car, a piercing scream burst from the second floor.

  Mr. Quy stiffened in horror.

  – “It’s My!”

  The doctor yelled:

  – “Quick, Mr. Quy! Help me — now!”

  Vú N?m ran into the room holding the glass of water — only to freeze in shock as she saw My pulling her mother’s hair, eyes wide with madness, voice shrill:

  – “You want to peel my skin, huh?! Let’s see if you dare!!!”

  Vú N?m cried out, grabbing My:

  – “Miss My, stop! This is your mother — your mother!”

  Mrs. Lan, still bewildered and terrified, tried to hold her daughter’s hands despite the pain:

  – “My, it’s Mommy! Quy! Where are you?!”

  At that moment, Mr. Quy and Dr. Tùng burst into the room. The doctor barked firmly:

  – “Hold her down — both of you! I’m giving her a sedative immediately!”

  The needle touched her skin. My let out a faint whimper. Within seconds, her eyelids drooped, her breathing slowed, her grip loosening from her mother’s hair.

  Mr. Quy carefully laid his daughter on the bed.

  Sweat drenched his face, and in his eyes lingered a deep, overwhelming fear.

  In the mirror, the regal silhouette of the Queen sat upon her obsidian throne — splendid, cold, and terrifying. Her chin rested lightly on the back of her hand, blood-red eyes locked onto Anh ?ào. Her voice echoed with elegant disdain:

  – “What’s wrong? Did I hit a nerve? How many rich young men have you trapped so far, hmm?”

  Anh ?ào forced a smile, but it twisted unnaturally under the weight of her fear.

  The Queen’s lips curled, her voice sugar-sweet yet dripping with venom:

  – “In this era, beautiful girls like you have it easy. A few lessons on how to pamper a man, a little plan on how to approach your target… and when the timing is perfect, you simply perform what you’ve practiced. After that, you report that you’re pregnant — mission accomplished.”

  Eerie laughter burst through the room. The dolls scattered around began to dance, giggling with their chilling childlike voices. The clown doll clapped excitedly:

  – “Our mistress is always right! And if the man doesn’t fall for her charms, she can just give him a little sleeping drug, lie down in position, and wait. The next morning he wakes up, she screams… and voilà! That’s how the poor rich boy Anh Tú — your current husband — became the victim of the ‘bedroom accident’ you orchestrated.”

  In the mirror, the Queen chuckled softly, the sound like wind sweeping across an ancient grave:

  – “Yet even after claiming your prize, you still couldn’t stay put. You set your eyes on another man… What is it? Is he richer? Handsomer? Or simply more of a gentleman than your husband?”

  Anh ?ào tried to struggle, but her body had already turned stiff — nothing more than a wooden puppet. Strings controlled by the dolls forced her limbs to move in jerky, lifeless motions.

  The Queen’s slender fingers traced the curve of her majestic horns. Her voice dropped lower, gleaming with dark amusement:

  – “Anh Th? once tried the same thing. Unfortunately for her, she was too inexperienced… and fell prey to a useless freeloader who tricked her into pregnancy. Life has sharp claws, doesn’t it? Then your sister — the second one — was also outplayed by someone else, using the exact same method.”

  Anh ?ào’s voice shook, her eyes wide with terror:

  – “Who are you? How do you know all this? What do you want from me?”

  The Queen’s blood-red eyes flared like twin ghostly flames:

  – “I want many things… and your entire family will learn that soon enough. As for ‘who I am’ — you’ve met me before. We lived under the same roof for twenty years.”

  Anh ?ào’s entire body trembled violently, wooden joints clattering in a rapid, icy rhythm.

  – “You… you’re Trang… you’re her? No — no, impossible! That body… that’s not her body!”

  The Queen tilted her head, a devilish smile slowly blooming across her flawless face:

  – “Everything will become clear in time. Slowly… that’s what makes it fun.”