The city outside your apartment window was quiet, wrapped in a blanket of night. You had just finished a long day of sketching for your fashion class, soft music humming in the background as you sat on your bed, half-asleep.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown Number.

You blinked, furrowing your brows. Weird. You weren’t expecting any calls.

You hesitated, then answered. “Hello?”

Silence.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“…Hello?” you said again, this time sitting up straighter.

Still nothing. Just a faint static hum on the other end.

You let out a breath, half-nervous, half-annoyed. “Must be a wrong number,” you murmured, about to hang up.

Then— A voice. Low. Familiar. Almost like a memory.

“Right voice.”