The final straw in the entire ordeal hit Stacey like a wrecking ball. She’d managed to tolerate the constant texts, unannounced inspections, and prying eyes, but when she began to sense something more sinister—a presence within her home—her life began unraveling into a living nightmare.
It started subtly. Small items went missing or ended up in places she was certain she hadn’t left them. She dismissed it as forgetfulness at first, but a creeping feeling of unease settled over her. She knew herself, and she wasn’t prone to misplacing things, yet her apartment seemed to have a mind of its own.