A quiet house. A well-paid babysitting job. One simple rule.
Do not acknowledge what the child sees in the corner.
At first, it feels like imagination. A child talking to nothing. A harmless quirk. But as the night stretches on, the silence inside the house begins to shift. The rules stop feeling strange and start feeling necessary.
Because something is listening.
And it knows your name.
As reality bends and fear tightens its grip, one thing becomes clear. This is not a game, and this is not a child’s imagination.
Some things wait to be noticed.
And once they are… they don’t let go.
You won’t see it coming. But you will feel it watching.
