The House That Learned Our Names

We moved into the house on a Sunday. That night, I heard my name whispered from the

hallway. I thought I imagined it. The next morning, my name was written

in dust on the mirror. That night, it said my wife's name. She heard it too.

On the third night, it whispered our daughter's name from inside her closet.

We grabbed our keys and ran for the door. It wouldn't open. The house started

repeating our names over and over, getting better each time. Then it said one

more name. A name we didn't recognize. From behind us.