3 AM.

I woke up at 3 AM with an urgent need to use the bathroom. Still half asleep, I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom, planning to scroll through TikTok while taking care of business. The moment the screen lit up, I saw a system notification: [Password entered incorrectly 5 consecutive times. Please try again in 8 minutes.] 01 Try again in 8 minutes? I froze, reading the sentence out loud involuntarily. Almost immediately, I realized something was horribly wrong. I always used Face ID or my fingerprint to unlock my phone. I rarely typed my passcode, and it was impossible that I would type it wrong five times in a row. Moreover, I had been dead asleep. I had just woken up seconds ago. A cold sweat broke out across my back. Whatever residual sleepiness lingered in my brain evaporated instantly. I remembered my phone's factory settings: If the passcode is entered incorrectly too many times, the phone locks for ten minutes. I looked down at my phone again. In other words, exactly two minutes before I woke up— Someone was in my bedroom, holding my phone, trying to unlock it! And that person... Was highly likely still inside my apartment! 02 The moment the realization hit me, I moved as fast as humanly possible. I locked the bathroom door as quietly as I could and drafted an emergency text to 911. Making sure I included my exact address and a brief description of the situation, I hit send. After doing that, I leaned back against the bathroom wall. I had never been in a situation like this before, and my legs felt like jelly. Thank God for the modern emergency dispatch system. The nearest precinct had officers on duty 24/7. Once a text-to-911 is received, police are usually dispatched and on the scene within ten minutes. I had actually just seen a public service announcement about texting 911 a couple of days ago. I never expected I'd have to use it so soon. I looked down at my phone. The [Delivered] status under my text message finally gave me a slight sense of relief. It was the dead of night. The vast majority of the building's residents were fast asleep. Everything around me was terrifyingly quiet. I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to stay calm. The only sound I could hear was my own trembling, shallow breathing. The thought that an intruder was standing right outside, separated from me by only a single wooden door... My adrenaline spiked violently, and my mouth went completely dry. I swallowed hard. Suppressing the violent pounding of my heart, I pressed my ear flat against the frosted glass of the bathroom door. Several minutes passed. There wasn't a single sound coming from outside. It seemed like nothing was happening. I checked my phone again. 3:05 AM. It had been exactly five minutes since I woke up. I started analyzing everything that had just happened in my head. And a few alternative theories started to form. Could it be that I had accidentally rolled over onto my phone in my sleep and triggered the lock screen myself? I nodded silently to myself. —It was definitely a possibility. I was a very restless sleeper. Every morning, I woke up in a completely different position than how I fell asleep. It wasn't entirely impossible that I had unconsciously mashed the screen in my sleep and triggered the lockout feature. But regardless. As a woman living alone, it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially since the police hadn't replied with a solid confirmation yet. I gripped my phone tightly, not daring to breathe loudly, keeping my ear pressed to the door. But right at that moment, a soft rustling sound came from behind me. My breath hitched violently in my throat. At the same time, the faint, flickering glow of a streetlamp cast a shifting shadow against the bathroom wall! A wave of pure ice shot up from the soles of my feet. It looked exactly like... Someone was standing right behind me! 03 I sucked in a sharp breath. My breathing grew ragged and heavy. A voice in my head started screaming. Turn around. Turn around. TURN AROUND! Unable to suppress the overwhelming terror any longer, I mechanically turned my head— It was just the bathroom window. I had left it open. The autumn wind on the 18th floor was strong late at night. The blinds were being blown back and forth. The slats rubbing against each other created that soft rustling sound. In the dead silence, a sound I normally wouldn't even notice had become deafening. ... It was just a false alarm! To keep the bathroom ventilated, I almost always left that small window open 24/7. Even at night. I was probably just so terrified that I completely forgot about it. I was scaring myself to death! I patted my chest, annoyed at my own forgetfulness. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. However, before I could even let out a sigh of relief... A dark shadow flashed sharply across the floor right at my feet. This time, I saw it with absolute clarity! It was absolutely not the shadow of the blinds. It was the shadow of a person, cast through the gap under the bathroom door by the ambient light in the living room! My pupils shrank to pinpricks. That person really was still inside my apartment! The very next second. CRASH! The sharp sound of shattering glass erupted from outside the door. I violently flinched. I immediately recognized the sound. The intruder had knocked over the glass vase in my living room! I held my breath, trembling as I dropped to my hands and knees, slowly lowering my head toward the floor. Lower, lower, just a little lower... And the moment I looked through the gap under the door. What I saw— Was the contorted, terrifying lower half of a man's face! 04 "AHHHHH—" I screamed at the top of my lungs, the piercing sound tearing through the silent apartment. I lost my grip on my phone, and it plummeted straight down. Smack! The phone hit the ceramic tiles with a heavy, sickening thud. I didn't dare reach down to pick it up immediately, terrified the man would suddenly kick the door in. My entire body went rigid. I stared dead at the shadow outside the door. But the man outside seemed just as startled by my scream as I was. He froze in place. Through the door, I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing. It sounded like he was analyzing the situation. Then, he turned and ran toward the front door. A series of rapid, heavy footsteps. SLAM! I jumped. It was the heavy, unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut. After that, the apartment returned to dead silence. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue. The metallic taste of blood grounded me, bringing back my sanity. My chest was heaving violently, and large beads of sweat rolled down my hairline. Did he run? Since I heard the door slam... Did that mean the man had finally left my apartment? No! I shook my head, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. What if he did that on purpose to trick me? What if he was gambling that I would let my guard down and step out, so he could ambush me? Right now, he could be standing perfectly still in the living room, waiting for me to walk right into his trap! I finally reached down and picked up my phone. Wiping the screen, I realized the impact against the tile had left several large cracks across the glass. But thank God, the 911 dispatcher had replied. They told me to stay calm, lock myself in a safe room, avoid confronting the intruder, and promised that officers would be on the scene within five to ten minutes. A surge of relief washed over me. The police were almost here. That was the ultimate lifeline. As long as I could hold out for a maximum of ten minutes, I would be safe! 05 I looked around the bathroom, grabbed the heavy mop from the corner, and held it up like a spear, aiming it directly at the door. The police were still a few minutes away. Anything could happen in that timeframe. I had no actual weapons in the bathroom; this was the only thing I could use to defend myself. If the intruder came back, I was absolutely not going to just stand there and wait to die. Thinking of this, I opened my contacts and found the number for Mr. Miller, the security guard on duty at the front desk of my building. I sent him a rapid-fire text: [Mr. Miller, someone broke into my apartment! I already texted 911!] [The guy realized I was awake and ran out the front door. Can you please keep an eye on the lobby cameras? Look for anyone suspicious leaving the building right now!] [If someone looks sketchy, try to stop them!] [But if it's too dangerous, don't engage! Just memorize what he looks like and what he's wearing for the police! Thank you SO MUCH!!!!!] I used a ton of exclamation points to emphasize how serious this was. Mr. Miller, the guard on duty tonight, was a solidly built guy in his late thirties. Word around the building was that he made a fortune in crypto, retired early, got bored sitting at home, and took the security job just for something to do. He worked out constantly and was built like a tank. Handling an average burglar shouldn't be a problem for him. The security desk was right in the main lobby on the first floor. No one could enter or exit the building without passing him. After sending the message, I stared at the screen, terrified I'd miss his reply. Luckily, he texted back almost immediately: [Got it. Don't panic, Chloe. Let me check the cameras right now.] I was incredibly grateful: [Thank you so much! The police should be here soon. You can coordinate with them when they arrive.] I didn't have any other options. I had just dumped my entire life savings into a down payment for this condo, finally ending years of drifting from one rental apartment to another. If this guy wasn't caught, I would probably never feel safe sleeping here again. About two or three minutes later, Mr. Miller replied: [Chloe, I've been awake at the desk this whole time. Nobody has tried to leave the building, and I haven't heard anything weird.] [I just checked the playback. Nobody has entered or exited this building since midnight.] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Image Attachment] [Look, Chloe. Are you pulling a prank on me?] 06 Along with the messages, Mr. Miller sent several screenshots of the lobby security camera feed. I tapped on the images, pinching the screen to zoom in. It was true. The timestamps confirmed that absolutely no one had entered or exited the lobby in the last three hours. But... that didn't make sense. I frowned deeply. Where the hell did the intruder go? Could he have broken into someone else's apartment?! After hesitating for a second, I sent Mr. Miller my theory: [Mr. Miller, I'm not joking! I saw a strange man inside my apartment with my own eyes!] [Maybe he snuck into the building yesterday... no, maybe even earlier, and he's been hiding in the building this whole time.] [There are no cameras in the stairwells, right? He's probably hiding in one of the stairwells on another floor right now!] Realizing I sounded a bit frantic, I quickly added: [It's okay, Mr. Miller, thank you. When the police get here, they'll find him.] As much as I hoped Mr. Miller could catch the guy, this was fundamentally a police matter. If Mr. Miller got hurt trying to help me, I would never forgive myself. Strangely, after I sent that message, Mr. Miller—who had been so responsive just moments ago—didn't reply. I lowered my phone. In the pitch-black night, I was once again trapped in an agonizing wait. But suddenly, a violent, aggressive pounding erupted against my front door. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! ... The knocks were rapid and explosive, terrifyingly loud in the dead silence of the night. I jumped violently, too terrified to even breathe. Was the intruder back? The thought sent a fresh wave of cold sweat down my spine. I didn't dare speculate. I stayed hidden in the bathroom, furiously texting 911 to ask for an ETA. Seeing the dispatcher reply [Units are pulling up now], I gripped my phone tight. Hurry. Hurry. Please, hurry... I prayed silently in my head. But outside, the knocking escalated into a violent, desperate hammering. SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! ... Just as I raised the mop, preparing for a fight to the death... A woman's voice yelled from the hallway: "Is anyone in there?!" "Chloe! Are you home?!" "If you're in there, open the door!" 07 I froze. I recognized that voice! It was Sarah, the woman who lived in the apartment directly across the hall from me. "Chloe, are you in there?! Is something wrong?! I thought I heard a weird noise coming from your place!" "Are you okay?! Don't scare us! Open the door!" "If you're okay, say something!" Sarah kept pounding on the door, yelling into my apartment. Her voice was hoarse, and she sounded genuinely panicked. Sarah was famous in our building for being incredibly warm and neighborly. She had always looked out for me. I remembered when I first moved in, it was right around Thanksgiving. Sarah saw that I was spending the holiday alone and brought over a massive plate of homemade turkey and stuffing. When the pipe under my kitchen sink burst last week, Sarah made her husband come over and fix it for me. Because of that, whenever I ran into her and her husband in the elevator, I always made sure to chat with them. It seemed my scream earlier had woken her up. Worried about me, she rushed over to check. I kept the mop wedged against the doorframe and cracked the bathroom door open just a tiny fraction. Now, I could hear it perfectly. The person standing outside my front door was definitely Sarah. But I still couldn't completely let my guard down. Holding the mop like a spear, I mustered my courage, stepped out of the bathroom, and slowly inched my way toward the entryway. After ensuring the living room was completely empty, I carefully pressed my eye against the peephole to look outside. But I couldn't see anyone. —Everything was completely black! Was the peephole blocked by something? I frowned. Just as I was trying to figure it out, the black mass shifted. What was revealed next... was the bloodshot white of an eyeball! The peephole wasn't blocked by an object... The person outside was pressing their eye directly against the glass, trying to look inside my apartment! A wave of dizziness hit me, and I instinctively stumbled backward. My legs gave out completely, and I collapsed onto the floor. The voice from outside called out again: "Chloe! Chloe, can you hear me?!" "Honey, if you're okay, please say something!" "Mr. Miller from security is here too! He said someone broke into your place! We're all so worried about you!..." 08 The flashing red and blue lights illuminated the night sky. Several patrol cars were already parked outside my building. I was sitting on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, while Sarah sat next to me, rubbing my back. Two officers were sweeping my apartment, while others, guided by Mr. Miller, were checking the security cameras and sweeping the rest of the building for suspects. The commotion had woken up a lot of the residents, and a small crowd had gathered outside my open front door, whispering among themselves. An officer stood in the hallway, calming them down while asking if anyone had seen anything suspicious that night. Watching all of this, Sarah hugged me tightly, her eyes full of pity. "You poor thing. You must have been terrified." A profound sense of warmth washed over my heart. It turned out that shortly after Mr. Miller got my texts, he left the desk and rushed upstairs. When he got to the 18th floor, he bumped into Sarah, who had been woken up by the noise and had come out to check on me. Because I hadn't answered the door, they were terrified something horrible had happened to me inside. Desperate to see if I was okay, Sarah had pressed her eye against the peephole, which was what scared me half to death. "So it was just a misunderstanding. I'm so sorry for making you guys worry," I said to Sarah, feeling deeply embarrassed. "As long as you're safe! That's all that matters!" Sarah smiled gently, stroking my hair to comfort me. At that moment, the lead officer walked over to ask some routine questions. "Ms. Davis, did you get a clear look at the intruder's face?" "The apartment was completely dark, and I didn't turn on any lights..." I tried to recall the chaotic flashes of memory, feeling a bit lost. But then, I quickly added: "But I am absolutely certain it was a man! And I checked the time—it was definitely before 3:10 AM!" The officer nodded, jotting everything down in his notepad. He asked a few more questions, but since I had been hiding in the bathroom the whole time, there wasn't much more I could tell him. Just as I was getting frustrated with my lack of helpful information, the officers who had been sweeping the building walked in to report. "Captain, we reviewed the lobby footage. No unauthorized personnel entered or exited the building tonight, and the perimeter sweep came up clean. Also, Ms. Davis lives on the 18th floor. Given the height, the intruder almost certainly entered through the front door." I stood up anxiously. "What about the bathroom? I leave my bathroom window open 24/7. Could they have used climbing gear or a rope to repel down from the roof?" The young officer looked at me and smiled gently. "Ms. Davis, real life isn't an action movie. Given the architectural layout of this building, pulling off a stunt like that would be incredibly difficult. And even if a professional thief managed it, they would leave traces. We checked the exterior walls outside all your windows—there are absolutely no scuff marks, rope burns, or footprints." "We can definitively rule that out." Hearing that, I couldn't help but look at my front door. "Then... the intruder really did come through the front door." My front door had an electronic keypad lock. Hearing my realization, the captain nodded, confirming my theory. "Some electronic locks have known security vulnerabilities, making them susceptible to hacking or brute-force tools. But more often than not, people use birthdays or anniversaries as their PIN, making it incredibly easy for someone who knows you to guess it." "Also, if you aren't careful when typing it in, someone walking past could easily memorize your code." I sighed heavily. It wasn't like I didn't know the risks of electronic locks before I bought one. But I've always been incredibly forgetful. I constantly locked myself out of my old apartments and had spent a small fortune on locksmiths over the years. So, after weighing the pros and cons, I had installed a keypad lock when I bought this place.

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