Nobody.

The hallway was empty.

I checked Sophie’s room immediately. She was asleep clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly against her chest.

I told myself the house was settling again.

Still, I locked my bedroom door afterward.

The next morning, Sophie barely spoke during breakfast. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept at all.

Then sometime that afternoon, while I was washing dishes, I heard something crash upstairs.

I ran toward the sound and found Sophie frozen outside Clara’s bedroom.

The door was open.

Inside, one of Clara’s jewelry boxes had fallen onto the floor.

But that wasn’t what scared Sophie.

She was staring at the closet.

Completely pale.

I stepped closer carefully. “Soph?”

She suddenly grabbed my wrist hard enough to hurt.

“Don’t open it,” she whispered.

My stomach tightened.

“Why?”

Tears filled her eyes instantly.

“Because he gets angry.”

I finally snapped.

I crouched in front of her. “Sophie… who are you talking about?”

For several seconds she just stared at me.

Then, with trembling hands, she ran to her bedroom and dragged out her tiny pink backpack. She unzipped it frantically, digging through crayons and folded papers before pulling out a small object wrapped carefully inside a blanket.

“Daddy…” she whispered shakily. “Look.”

I unfolded the blanket slowly.

And the second I saw what was inside, every drop of blood drained from my face.

Because sitting in my hands was a man’s silver wristwatch.

Old. Scratched. Heavy.

Mine.

Not identical to mine.

Actually mine.

The exact watch I lost three months earlier.

The one I had searched the entire house for.

The one Clara swore she’d never seen.

I stared at Sophie in complete shock.

“Where did you get this?”

She looked toward the closet again.

Then she whispered words I still hear in my nightmares.

“He told me not to tell you he still lives here.”

And at that exact moment…

Something inside the closet door slowly creaked open by itself.