At 3:17 in the morning, the phone vibrated and my hands went numb.
I opened my eyes, and on the screen was an order notification from the platform: 28th floor, room 1806, a seafood porridge and salmon sashimi.
The remarks column reads: Knock three times and leave it at the door. You are not allowed to ring the doorbell.
I cursed, put on my coat and ran outside. The electric car drove in the rain for six minutes and was soaked when it arrived at the gate of the community. Security guard Zhang recognized me and pressed the gate: "Is it the one on the 28th floor again?"
"Who else but her would eat so much in the middle of the night?"
"There's something wrong with that woman." Lao Zhang lowered his voice. "A few days ago, someone complained about the sound of a machine at her house in the middle of the night. The management knocked on the door, but she didn't open it. She said she was making juice."
I didn't answer. What kind of machine noise can be made by making juice?
The elevator went up to the 28th floor. The corridor lights were pale, the door of 1806 was dark red, and the cat's eyes stared at me with black holes. I knocked on the note three times, hung the takeout on the door handle, turned around and left.
Then the door opened.
