I change the bedsheet all the time. I washed the blanket with hot water. Once again, I took the mattress out of the balcony to dry under the intense Manila sun.
But it’s weird — every night when Michael goes to bed, the smell returns.
When I asked him, his brow furrowed.
“You’re just so sensitive, Anna. There is no smell.”
But I knew I wasn’t imagining.
Things got even weirder when I noticed that every time I tried to clean part of her bed, she suddenly became irritable. One night he even screamed.
“Don’t touch my stuff. Let the bed be like that!”
I was stunned.
Michael was always calm. In my eight years of marriage, I’ve never seen her get so upset just because of cleaning.
From then on, a strange fear gradually developed inside me.
And then the night came when the smell became so strong, I could barely sleep. Every time I lay down, I felt like something was rotting under the bed.
A very strong sense of fear.
One night, Miguel said he had to go to Cebu for a three-day business trip.
He pulled his suitcase to the door and kissed me on the forehead.
“Make sure the door is locked.”
I nodded, but there was a strange feeling in my chest.
As the door closed and the sound of his footsteps in the hallway gradually faded, the whole house became very quiet.
I stared at the door for a long time.
Then I slowly turned my gaze back to the bed in our bedroom.
Suddenly, my heart was beating faster.
An idea popped into my head — and in that moment, I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“Something is wrong… I need to know the truth.”
I pulled the mattress to the middle of the floor.
