Chapter 5: The Apartment's Secrets（第五章：公寓的奥秘）

　　The sound of the front door closing was like a starting pistol. I was alone. Truly, completely alone in Lauren Thompson's sanctuary. The silence was profound, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the distant wail of a siren. For a long moment, I just stood in the center of the living room, breathing in the lingering scent of her perfume and yesterday's takeout. This was no longer about stolen glimpses; this was an archaeological dig.

　　大门关上的声音像发令枪。我独自一人。真正、彻底地独处于劳伦·汤普森的圣所。寂静深重，只被冰箱的嗡鸣和远处警笛的哀嚎打破。好长一段时间，我只是站在客厅中央，呼吸着她残留的香水和昨天外卖的气息。这不再关乎偷窥；这是一次考古发掘。

　　I started with her desk. It was neat, organized. I ran my transparent fingers over the keyboard she typed on every day. I opened drawers, finding pens, notepads, spare charger cables. Nothing exciting. Then, the bottom drawer. It was locked. A small, simple lock. A surge of excitement shot through me. A secret. I found a paperclip on the desk, straightening it with careful precision. My hands trembled as I worked it into the lock. The fear of leaving forensic evidence was overshadowed by the thrill of the violation. After a minute of fiddling, I felt a click. The drawer slid open.

　　我从她的书桌开始。整洁、有序。我用透明的手指抚过她每天打字的键盘。我打开抽屉，找到笔、记事本、备用充电线。没什么令人兴奋的。然后，最底下的抽屉。锁着。一个小巧、简单的锁。一阵兴奋感窜遍我全身。一个秘密。我在桌上找到一个回形针，小心翼翼地把它掰直。当我把回形针伸进锁孔时，手在颤抖。留下物证的风险被侵犯的刺激感所掩盖。拨弄了一分钟后，我感觉到咔哒一声。抽屉滑开了。

　　Inside, there was no shocking diary, no illicit photos. Instead, there were mementos. A dried flower pressed between sheets of wax paper. A ticket stub from a concert years ago. And a stack of letters, handwritten, tied with a simple ribbon. My heart hammered. This was it. The real her. I untied the ribbon with reverent hands. The letters were from a man named David. They were love letters, filled with the kind of earnest, slightly clumsy affection that felt more real than any on-screen persona. He wrote about her laugh, her intelligence, his dreams for their future. I felt a sickening twist of jealousy, but also a strange pity. Where was David now? The letters ended abruptly about a year ago. Had he left? Had she ended it? The mystery was more intoxicating than any naked photo could have been. I was learning the topography of her heartbreak. I carefully retied the ribbon, placing everything back exactly as it was. The lock clicked shut. The secret was safe with me.

　　里面没有令人震惊的日记，没有违禁照片。相反，是一些纪念品。一朵夹在蜡纸间的干花。一张多年前音乐会的票根。还有一叠手写信，用简单的丝带系着。我的心狂跳。就是这个。真实的她。我用虔诚的手解开丝带。信是一个叫大卫的男人写来的。是情书，充满了那种真诚、略带笨拙的深情，感觉比任何屏幕形象都更真实。他写她的笑声，她的聪慧，他对他们未来的梦想。我感到一阵恶心的嫉妒，但也有一丝奇怪的怜悯。大卫现在在哪？信件大约一年前突然中断了。是他离开了？还是她结束了？这个谜团比任何裸照都更令人沉醉。我正在了解她心碎的地形。我小心地重新系好丝带，把所有东西原样放回。锁咔哒一声关上了。这个秘密由我保管。

　　Next, I ventured into the bathroom. It was a temple of steam and scent. Her toothbrush stood in a holder, bristles damp. I had a wild impulse to use it, to feel that intimacy, but the thought of the foreign moisture, the tangible transfer of saliva, was a line even I wouldn't cross. Too much risk, too… real. But the shower… the shower was calling. I stepped in. It was dry now, but the glass walls were still streaked with condensation from her morning routine. I pressed my face against the cool, damp glass, inhaling the ghost of her shampoo and soap. I could almost see her there, water sluicing over her skin. My hand went to the bottle of body wash. I squeezed a drop onto my transparent finger. The scent was floral, expensive, utterly her. I rubbed it into my skin, anointing myself with her essence. It was a perverse baptism.

　　接下来，我冒险进入浴室。这是一个充满蒸汽和香气的殿堂。她的牙刷立在架子上，刷毛潮湿。我有个疯狂的冲动想用它，感受那种亲密，但想到外来的湿气，唾液有形的交换，这是一条我也不会跨越的界线。风险太大，太……真实。但淋浴间……淋浴间在召唤。我走了进去。现在虽然是干的，但玻璃墙上还残留着她早晨洗漱时凝结的水痕。我把脸贴在冰冷潮湿的玻璃上，吸入她洗发水和肥皂的残留气息。我几乎能看到她在那儿，水流过她的皮肤。我的手伸向沐浴露瓶子。我挤了一滴在我透明的手指上。气味是花香，昂贵，完全是她的味道。我把它揉进皮肤，用她的精华给自己涂油。这是一次变态的洗礼。

　　The master bedroom was next. The bed was unmade, the sheets a tangled landscape of her sleep. I lay down on her side of the bed, sinking into the pillow. Her scent was overwhelming here, a direct pipeline to my fantasies. I rolled over, burying my face in the fabric where her head had been. I could have stayed there for hours. But I had a mission. I opened her nightstand drawer. More secrets. A vibrator, sleek and modern. Not a surprise, but a confirmation of her humanity that sent another jolt through me. And beside it, a bottle of sleeping pills, half-empty. The sight of that bottle was a sobering splash of reality. The flawless anchor had cracks. She had lonely nights. The knowledge was a power, but a heavy one.

　　接下来是主卧。床没有整理，床单是她睡眠时弄乱的景象。我在她睡的那边躺下，陷进枕头里。她的气息在这里扑面而来，是直通我幻想的管道。我翻过身，把脸埋在她头枕过的布料里。我本可以在那儿待上几个小时。但我有任务。我打开她的床头柜抽屉。更多的秘密。一个造型流畅现代的按摩棒。并不意外，但证实了她的人性，这又让我一震。在旁边，一瓶安眠药，吃了一半。看到那个瓶子是令人清醒的现实一击。完美的主播也有裂缝。她有过孤独的夜晚。知晓这件事是一种力量，但也是沉重的负担。

　　My final exploration was the hamper. This time, I didn't hesitate. I plunged my hands in, a treasure hunter in a gold mine of soiled silk and cotton. I pulled out the yoga pants from yesterday, still holding the faint musk of her sweat. I found the stockings and garter belt from her evening undressing. This was the motherlode. I took it all, every intimate article, folding them carefully into a small bag I'd found under her sink. It was a brazen theft, but the thrill of ownership was addictive. These weren't just stolen clothes; they were artifacts of her life, imbued with her essence.

　　我最后的探索是洗衣篮。这次，我没有犹豫。我双手伸进去，像一个在沾满污渍的丝绸和棉布金矿里的宝藏猎人。我拿出昨天的瑜伽裤，仍然带着她汗水的淡淡气息。我找到了她晚上脱下的丝袜和吊袜带。这是主矿脉。我拿走了所有东西，每一件贴身物品，仔细叠好放进我在她水槽下找到的一个小袋子里。这是厚颜无耻的偷窃，但拥有的快感令人上瘾。这些不仅仅是偷来的衣服；它们是她们生活的文物，浸透着她的精华。

　　As evening approached, I restored the apartment to a state of perfect order, all except for the now significantly lighter hamper. I hid my stash of treasures in the very back of her closet, behind a suitcase. A secret within a secret. When I heard her key in the lock, I was back in my spot in the closet, heart pounding with a mixture of terror and triumph. She was home. I had rifled through her entire life, and she was none the wiser. The power was immense. But as I watched her walk in, looking tired from her day, a tiny sliver of guilt pricked at me. I had consumed her privacy, devoured her secrets. I was no longer just an observer; I was a parasite, feeding on the intimate details of her existence. And I was hungry for more.

　　夜幕降临，我把公寓恢复成完美整洁的状态，除了现在明显变轻的洗衣篮。我把我的战利品藏在她衣橱最里面，一个行李箱后面。秘密中的秘密。当我听到她的钥匙在锁孔里转动时，我已回到衣橱里的位置，心中充满恐惧和胜利交织的狂跳。她回家了。我翻遍了她整个生活，而她毫无察觉。这力量是巨大的。但当我看着她走进来，因一天工作而疲惫时，一丝微小的内疚刺痛了我。我吞噬了她的隐私，吞食了她的秘密。我不再只是一个观察者；我是一个寄生虫，以她存在的私密细节为食。而且，我还渴望更多。