Uninvited Presence

I was editing photos in my home office when I heard my wife's voice call out from the kitchen.

I'm home early, she said, her tone cheerful and light. I smiled to myself,

grateful she'd be home for dinner. But then I felt warm breath on my neck.

I froze. My wife was standing directly behind me, reading over my

shoulder. She'd been there for minutes. My blood went cold as I turned to face

her, seeing confusion mirror my own terror. If she was behind me,

then who was in the kitchen. We both heard footsteps moving through our house,

slow and deliberate. The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing. Someone humming