When I returned from a three-day business trip, my neighbor screamed at me the moment I stepped out of my car.

“Keep it down next time!” she snapped. “Your house was loud all night!”

I blinked. “What?”

She folded her arms. “Banging. Footsteps. Voices. From midnight until morning.”

“That’s impossible,” I said, forcing a laugh. “No one’s been home. I live alone.”

Her face changed.

Not anger.

Confusion.

“Well,” she muttered, stepping back, “someone was there.”

She walked away before I could say another word.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I checked every room.
Every lock.
Every window.

Nothing was out of place.

Still, the air felt… watched.

The next morning, I pretended to leave for work.

I locked the door. Started my car. Drove around the block.

Then I came back.

Quietly.

I shut the door behind me and went straight to the bedroom.

My heart was pounding as I slid under the bed, pulling my phone close to my chest. Dust clung to my clothes. I could see the bedroom door perfectly from where I lay.

I waited.

An hour passed.
Then two.

Just when I started to feel ridiculous—

The front door opened.

Slowly.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Not rushed.
Not careful.

Comfortable.

My blood turned cold.

The bedroom door creaked open.

Someone walked in.

I saw their feet first.

Bare feet.

They stepped across the room and stopped—right beside the bed.

I covered my mouth to keep from screaming.

Then the person spoke.

Softly.

Almost lovingly.

“You can come out now,” the voice said.

It was my voice.

Same tone. Same cadence. Same breath between words.

My heart slammed so hard I thought it would give me away.

The person crouched down.

And through the narrow gap beneath the bed—

I saw my own face staring back at me.

Same eyes.
Same scar on the chin.
Same smile I practiced in the mirror every morning.

Except this version of me looked… relieved.

“I was wondering when you’d figure it out,” it whispered.

Behind it, the closet door slowly opened.

And something inside shifted.

Because suddenly I understood why the house had been noisy.

Why the neighbor was angry.

Why the locks were never broken.

I hadn’t been alone.

I’d just been taking turns.