Unexpected Intruder

I found something in my house that wasn’t mine. It was on my kitchen counter when I got

home a phone. Not mine. Not my partner’s. No case.

No lock screen. Just lit up, vibrating softly. A notification popped up:

“I’m inside. Where should I wait?” My blood went cold. I checked the front door.

Locked. Back door. Locked. Windows. Closed.

The phone vibrated again. “He’s not answering. Did he change plans?” I heard a sound

upstairs. A slow creak. Like someone shifting their weight. I grabbed the phone

and typed with shaking hands: “Who is this?” Three dots appeared instantly.