It was from the hallway outside her bedroom.

Maya couldn’t sleep. Again.

The whisper came again, but this time it wasn't from the laptop speakers.

She’d already scrolled past forty-seven titles. Nothing felt right. Romantic comedies felt hollow, action movies felt like noise. She wanted something that would make her forget her own insomnia, not just fill the silence.

On screen, the camera crept closer to the door. The handle turned. The door swung open slowly, revealing her dark living room. And in the corner of the frame, just barely visible in the reflection of the dark TV screen, was a figure. Tall. Too tall. Shoulders brushing the ceiling.