It was supposed to be a simple celebration.

For her 29th birthday, Lena Hayes chose a small vintage café in downtown Portland—warm lights, soft jazz, and a dozen people she loved most. They laughed, clinked glasses, took photos under string lights. It was the first time in years the whole Hayes family was together in one room.

Lena was leaning over her cake, getting ready to blow out the candles, when she heard it.

A whisper.

Her mom’s voice—tight, urgent.

“While everyone’s here, tell Nathan to go change the locks on Lena’s apartment. Immediately.”

Lena froze, her breath caught halfway between inhale and birthday wish.

Her dad nodded without hesitation, slipping his phone from his pocket.
No explanation.
No discussion.

Her brother Nathan got up from the table a moment later—quiet, pale—and left the café without saying goodbye.

Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.

Lena tried to keep smiling as everyone sang, but her mind spiraled.

Why would they change her locks?
What were they hiding?
What was inside her apartment?

Five minutes later, the café door burst open.

Nathan stood there—white as paper, shaking so badly the keys in his hand jingled.

“Dad…” he whispered. “Call the police.”

Everyone went silent.

“What happened?” Lena asked, voice cracking.

Nathan swallowed hard, eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief.

“There’s someone inside your apartment.”

The room erupted with gasps.

“Who?” Lena demanded.

Nathan shook his head slowly.
“Not someone. Some… thing.”

He took a breath.

“When I opened the door, the lights were off. But… the TV was on. Playing footage of you. Footage from inside your apartment.”

Lena’s heart dropped.

Her mother grabbed her arm.

“It gets worse,” Nathan said, voice trembling. “Every room was covered with photos of you—sleeping, cooking, showering—hundreds of them. And all taken from inside your place.”

The café fell into horrified silence.

Lena felt the world tilt.

“There was a message on the wall,” Nathan added. “Written in red marker.”

He looked directly at her.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LENA.
CAN’T WAIT FOR TONIGHT.”

A few people screamed. Someone dropped their drink.

Before anyone could react, Lena’s phone buzzed in her hand.

Unknown number.

A new message.

Only three words.

“I’m already here.”

Lena’s blood ran cold.

Her family stared at her, waiting.

She slowly lifted her eyes from her phone to the front windows of the café… where a tall figure stood outside in the dark, face hidden, watching her.