Chapter 1

The day I bought the house, the previous owner made a point of telling me.

"This complex doesn't have attics, so the price is lower."

I glanced at the sealed-up ceiling and didn't think much of it.

After I moved in, I noticed my electric bill never dropped below five hundred a month.

I figured it was old wiring.

Then one midnight, coming home from a business trip, I walked in on the previous owner's family eating a late-night meal in my living room.

I tried to call the police, and he knocked me out and tied me up.

Then threw me into the attic and left me to starve to death.

It was only later that I understood.

In the second bedroom, inside the closet, there was a hidden door leading up to the attic.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd been reborn, back to the day before that trip.

This time it was my turn to hide in the attic and play hide-and-seek with them.

1. I lifted my head and stared at the sealed ceiling above me.

The corner of my mouth curled up, little by little.

In my past life I was starved to death in that attic. Seven full days.

Right now, all four of them were up there.

Like four rats.

Using my water and power, eating my snacks, wearing my clothes.

Freeloading in my home for a whole six months.

I drew a long breath and pressed down the hatred surging inside me.

I knew I couldn't rush this. I had to take it slow.

After all, our roles were swapped now.

I had a thousand ways to make them wish they were dead.

For now I went through my routine, washing up as usual, so the rats upstairs wouldn't sense anything off.

When I finished, I came back to the living room and sat on the couch.

My phone rang right on time.

It was my boss.

"Mr. Clayton, the company wants to send me out of state for a business trip, is that right?"

I kept my voice steady, not too loud, not too soft, just enough for them to hear it clearly upstairs.

"About fifteen days?"

"Sure, no problem at all."

I hung up and strolled into the master bedroom to change.

The four demons upstairs had to be quietly celebrating.

Exactly like last time.

Fifteen days away, the house empty.

More than enough time for them to lord it over the place.

On my way out, I deliberately left the bedroom door not quite shut.

Left them a little gap to peek through.

Once I was downstairs, I didn't leave right away.

I ducked into the corner beside the building's entrance and took out my phone.

Through a friend's referral, I placed a call.

"Hello, is this the surveillance company?"

"I need a set of pinhole cameras, the most hidden kind you have."

"I need them now. I'll be waiting at the back gate of Serenwood Court."

I'd just hung up when the entrance door opened.

The previous owner's family, all four of them, came out chatting and laughing.

I knew exactly where they were headed, the supermarket nearby for a big shopping run.

Celebrating that the house was empty again.

I turned sideways and slipped into the corner.

Watched their backs disappear out the complex gate.

My heart was pounding.

Not from fear.

From excitement.

I glanced down at the time on my phone.

Every time they hit the supermarket, they were gone at least an hour and a half.

More than enough for what I had to do next.

Twenty minutes later, the guy from the surveillance company pulled up on an electric scooter.

I stuffed the black plastic bag into my purse.

Then walked quickly back toward the building.

The stairwell was quiet, nothing but the sound of my own footsteps.

Unlocked the door, stepped inside.

No wasted movement. Straight to the second bedroom.

I opened the closet, and there was the hidden door.

The attic wasn't big.

Four floor pallets were laid out crooked across the floor.

On the little dining table, dishes and chopsticks still sat uncleared.

In the corner, a pile of snack wrappers of every kind.

All of it brought home by me, from the office.

My hairdryer, too, tossed down beside a pillow.

They'd even had the nerve to put on a pair of my slippers.

Did they really think this was their own home?

I swallowed down the disgust.

Took the pinhole cameras out of the bag.

One in the vent.

Aimed right at the table, to catch them eating.

One in the corner.

Wide angle, covering the whole attic living space.

One above the floor pallets.

Just to catch how ugly they looked while they slept.

Right, the hidden door entrance needed one too.

To record every time they came and went.

With each one I installed, I checked the feed on my phone.

The angle had to be perfect.

The lighting had to be clear.

I was going to capture every single day of theirs, crisp and complete.

Every teeth-baring grin included.

Every filthy word, and every look in their eyes.

Once all the cameras were in place, I moved to go back down through the hidden door.

I didn't expect the front door in the entryway to suddenly rattle.