s. The officer’s expression darkened. “Ma’am, I think you need to leave the house tonight,” he said carefully.
“We’ll send someone back to check the attic.”
My blood ran cold. “The attic?” I whispered. “I never go up there.” The officer nodded grimly.
“That’s what worries me.” Later that night, I stayed at a friend’s house. Around midnight, my phone buzzed with a call from the same officer. His voice was low and serious.
“Ma’am, we found someone living in your attic. From the signs, it looks like he’s been there for months. You did the right thing calling us when you did.”
I dropped the phone, my whole body trembling.
The thought that I’d been sleeping peacefully while a stranger crept around above me was almost too much to bear. From that day on, I made a promise to always trust my instincts — because sometimes, the danger we fear isn’t in our imagination. It’s right above our heads, waiting to be discovered.
