Chapter 2

I'd counted on them being gone at least an hour and a half.

But I forgot one thing.

The previous owner's second son had a habit of leaving things behind.

Every time he went out, he forgot something.

His footsteps were heavy, impatient.

I looked down through the peephole in the attic floor.

"Always making me come back for it. What a pain!"

Then he stopped short.

He was staring at the shoe cabinet, where my heels were lined up.

Toes pointed out, perfectly straight.

"Which shoes did she wear out this morning?"

Lucky for me, I always kept my shoes neat, and I hadn't left a single trace.

He shrugged it off and turned into the master bedroom.

Straight to the nightstand, like he'd done it a hundred times.

Second drawer, open.

Inside was a small box where I kept my cash.

He pulled out a stack of bills, didn't even count them.

Just shoved them into his pocket.

And every move he made was caught on camera.

High-def, no blind spots.

Passing the coffee table, he stopped again.

My car keys were sitting on it.

He hesitated for a second or two, then grabbed them.

"She's away on a trip anyway. She won't notice if I take the car out."

The door closed again.

I crept down from the attic.

No rush to leave.

First I checked the camera feeds.

Every frame was live, the picture crystal clear.

Then I went to the shoe cabinet.

I took out the heels I'd bought a couple of days earlier, still in the box.

So they wouldn't catch on to anything.

Then I closed up and went downstairs.

Caught a cab to the hotel.

For the next two days, my phone barely left my hand.

I watched the feeds nonstop.

Five split screens, like a twenty-four-hour reality show.

The first night, they started celebrating.

The previous owner raised a can of beer.

They'd used my money to buy a mountain of food and drinks.

It nearly covered the whole coffee table.

"Dad, why don't we have the guys over for cards tomorrow?"

The second son stuffed meat into his mouth.

"Place is empty anyway. Be a waste not to use it."

The previous owner thought about it, then nodded.

"Fine, tell them to come in the afternoon."

"But remember, we clean up spotless at night."

"Not a single hair left behind."

The second son thumped his chest.

"Relax, it's not our first time."

The next afternoon, three people showed up at the house.

A mahjong table went up in the living room.

Smoke everywhere, beer bottles rolling across the floor.

They were hollering and carrying on in my living room.

Ash flicked onto the floor, tea spilled on the couch.

One of the men got drunk.

Went straight to my bed and slept it off.

I stared at the screen.

Not angry. If anything, I wanted to laugh.

Laugh at how close they were to ruin, and how little they knew it.

Every night, after the last of them left,

the whole family started their deep clean.

The vacuum droned, rags wiped back and forth.

Everything they'd touched went back in place.

Even the remote on the coffee table had to sit at the exact angle it had been.

The previous owner would check each room himself.

"This won't do. Wipe it again."

"Pillow's wrong. It was tilted before she went to sleep."

"Slippers are off by three centimeters."

Watching it, I couldn't help but be impressed.

No wonder I lived here half a year in my last life and never noticed.

They knew me better than my own mother.

The fourth night.

I figured the timing was about right.

They were celebrating again, cooking up a big dinner in my apartment.

I put on my coat and went down to catch a cab.

"Serenwood Court."

When the car reached the entrance, I had the driver stop somewhere obvious on purpose.

I got out of the cab.

Looked up at my own window.

The lights were on, shadows moving.

The next second, the picture changed.

The feeds erupted into chaos.

"She's back! She's back!"

The previous owner's wife shrieked in a hushed voice.

"That's impossible. Didn't they say fifteen days?"

"It's only day four!"

"Cut the chatter, clean it up!"

The elder son's face went white.

He carried off the whole pot, swept all the leftover food into a trash bag.

Dumped it into the attic along with the rest of the garbage.

The four of them scurried around the place like startled rats.

I was just about to head into the building when my phone rang.

Three characters popped up on the screen.

The previous owner.

I knew what he was after, and I picked up without a flicker in my voice.

"Homer, is something the matter?"