Tic tac teeth: part 8

I groan and lean my head against the wall. My hand somehow puts the phone back in its cradle, though I don’t remember doing so. “What did she mean no 310? I’m in apartment 310 right now!” I say to myself angrily. I stand up straight, and go to the door, then stop. “Maybe the man gave me the wrong number. Maybe this really is room 309.” I grasp the handle and pull the door open. Sure enough, the sign on the door says “309”. “Stupid hotel staff…” I mutter to myself as I look down the hallway. There is no one in sight. The door next to mine says “311”. I pull out my keycard to open the door once again, but it slips through my fingers and onto the carpet. As I bend over to retrieve it, I happen to take a closer look at it. The number “309” printed on it is very blurry. I pick it up and look closer. It almost looks like there could be something under it. I scrape at the paint with my thumb nail, and flecks of black start to rub off. As I uncover what is underneath the paint, I gasp. In old fashioned script that doesn’t fit in with the otherwise modern print on the card, it says “310”. “So I was right.” I mutter. Just then, it all clicks. This was Layla and her families’ apartment. A wind suddenly picks up around me, and chills me to the bone.