That day had started out completely ordinary. My husband was at work and wasn’t expected home for at least another three hours. I took advantage of the quiet afternoon to clean the house, humming to myself as I moved from room to room. Everything felt normal—until the sudden, sharp knock at the door shattered the calm.
When I opened it, my breath caught. My husband was standing there… or at least, that’s who I thought it was. He looked the same, sounded the same, even wore the same jacket he’d left in that morning. But something in his eyes felt different. Off. Almost empty.
“Why are you home so early?” I asked, confused.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so my boss let me leave early,” he answered. His tone was flat, colder than usual, lacking the warmth I’d grown used to. Without waiting for another word, he walked straight past me and headed down the hallway toward our bedroom.
