After two exhausting months away, worrying at my sick father’s bedside, I finally returned home — only to hear my front door unlock. A young woman stepped inside like she belonged there. When I demanded to know who she was, her answer gave me chills: “Michael gave me the key.”
After spending two months at the hospital with my mom while she cared for my dad, all I wanted was to collapse into my own bed when I got home.
But something seemed off the moment I entered the apartment.
A woman standing in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
There was a strange scent in the air. Something sweeter than the familiar scents of my lavender fabric softener and vanilla air freshener.
But I brushed it off as some side effect from being away from home for so long or getting so used to the disinfectant scent of the hospital.
My muscles ached from too many nights spent in that rigid hospital chair, watching my father’s chest rise and fall while machines beeped. They were a constant reminder of how fragile life could be.