After successfully earning their SEP certification at the training centre, Sarah and Mei Ling were buzzing with excitement for their first Supernumerary flight, a Hong Kong turnaround. Despite the notoriously demanding nature of this flight route, which many seasoned crew members often dreaded, the pair of batch girls eagerly anticipated their maiden visit to the vibrant city, dreaming of savouring authentic dim sum and indulging in some serious shopping.

With their Hong Kong flight scheduled to depart at 7 am, they had to report to the control station at around 3 am for briefing and pre-flight preparations. The flight proceeded smoothly, and upon landing, the exhausted duo checked into the luxurious crew hotel, which offered breathtaking views of Victoria Harbour.

Upon arriving at the hotel lobby and waiting for their room keys, Sarah and Mei Ling began asking around if any of the senior crew members would like to meet up for meals. It was a tradition within the company for the most junior crew, especially the SNY crew, to extend such invitations. However, given the early morning flight and the crew's exhaustion, most of their colleagues politely declined, opting instead to rest and eat on their own schedules.

After the day's exertions, Sarah and Mei Ling finally reached their room, a beautifully appointed space with modern furnishings and a stunning view of the iconic Peninsula Hotel opposite. Mei Ling, unable to fight the fatigue, collapsed onto her bed still in her Sarong Kebaya, her suitcase left unpacked. Sarah chuckled at her batch girl's exhaustion and decided to capture the moment. She snapped a few photos with her phone, planning to share them with their batchmates for a good laugh later.

When Mei Ling finally woke from her slumber, the pair of batchmates headed out for a late lunch and some shopping. They enjoyed their first taste of roast goose, savouring the flavours and the experience. After a day of exploring, having dim sum for dinner, and enjoying the famous Symphony of Lights, which was just a stone's throw away from their hotel, they returned to their room, content and ready for a good night's sleep before their return flight to Singapore the next day.

As the night drew on, the girls quickly succumbed to sleep. The room was quiet, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional honk of a taxi from the street below. The sleek digital clock on the nightstand ticked away the hours, and soon, the hotel was enveloped in the serene silence of the early morning.

The following day, Sarah woke early, feeling refreshed. As she lay in bed, she began scrolling through the photos she had taken the previous night. She laughed at the pictures of Mei Ling sprawled on the bed in her kebaya and marvelled at the pictures of their meals and views of Hong Kong, but her excitement and laughter died in her throat when she swiped to the next image.

There, on her phone screen, was a photograph taken at 3:47 am from the foot of their beds by someone who seemed to be extremely tall. The image showed both Sarah and Mei Ling sound asleep, tucked under their blankets. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow from the city lights outside. The angle of the photo was odd, as if someone had stood at the foot of their beds to capture it from a high angle. Sarah’s heart raced. She had taken the pictures of Mei Ling herself, but who had taken this one?

Panic set in as Sarah shook Mei Ling awake, showing her the mysterious photograph. Mei Ling’s confusion turned to fear as she realised the implications. They had been alone in the room all night—no one else had access, and neither of them had got up to take the picture. The eerie possibility that someone, or something, had entered their room while they were asleep sent shivers down their spines.

Desperate for answers, they decided to tell their Crew-in-Charge, as they believed it was a serious safety lapse if someone had entered their room. Their inflight supervisor, equally concerned and puzzled, insisted they report the incident to the hotel’s management. Together, they went to the hotel’s front desk and explained the situation. The front desk manager, visibly concerned, assured them that security was tight and that no one could have entered their room without a key card. He promised to check the security footage to see if anyone had been in the hallway outside their room during the night.

Later that day, the front desk manager called them back with the findings. He looked pale and uneasy as he spoke. “We reviewed the footage, and there was no sign of anyone entering or leaving your room after both of you returned at 10:51 pm,” he said. “However, there is something strange. At around 3:44 am, the cameras picked up a brief flicker of static and then nothing for about a minute. When the feed resumed, everything seemed normal.”

Sarah and Mei Ling exchanged worried glances. The unexplained photograph, timestamped at 3:47 am, and the glitch in the security footage were too much to dismiss as mere coincidences. They thanked the front desk manager and returned to their room, but the sense of unease lingered. They quickly packed their bags, left the lights on, and talked in hushed tones until it was time for them to check out for their return flight back to Singapore. The photograph on Sarah’s phone will always remain a mystery.