A Call from the Dead

The newest lip rouge at the finest cosmetics shop in the capital was in such high demand that they couldn't keep it in stock.

But the first noblewoman to use it was found dead in her bedroom the very next day.

The courtesan who used it next died suddenly on the third day.

And I was the third person to use the lip rouge.

Late that night, bloody writing appeared in my bronze mirror: "Run. You're next."

Trembling, I scraped out the lip rouge, only to find a piece of mole-marked human skin hidden inside.

The mole was in exactly the same place as the dead courtesan's.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. My maid's voice called out, "Miss, are you asleep?"

I stared at the shadow beneath the door. That wasn't my maid at all.

Because my maid had been dead for three days.