Right in front of me is a wooden table adorned with a used drinking glass, a half-empty coffee mug, a blinking wi-fi router, an outdated mobile phone, piles of books, and sheets of paper. It's midnight and a girl is sleeping on the couch. She must be the sister of the owner of this house. A purple backpack is plastered on the floor. There must be another sibling living here; a guy's pair of rubber shoes is propped on the wall to my left.