Luna reads a letter from a woman named Margo, who worked the night shift at the 24-hour laundromat on Old Mill Road. One rainy November night, a woman in a blue dress arrives with a single white shirt. She washes it, dries it, and folds it—over and over, for hours. She never speaks, never blinks. Margo tries to ignore it, but the woman returns night after night. The folding becomes obsessive, mechanical. Then Margo finds a name tag sewn into the shirt: her own name. She digs into the building's history and discovers a fire in 1971 that killed a seamstress named Margaret. The ghostly woman follows Margo home, folding invisible laundry, mouthing a single word: 'Remember.' Luna finishes the letter only to find a warm, folded shirt on her own desk—with her name on it. An unsettling tale of repetition, grief, and the things we leave undone. Margo's unease becomes terror as the line between past and present blurs, and Luna is left with a garment that shouldn't exist, folded perfectly, waiting to be remembered.