My name is Penny Wilson. A decade into my marriage, the house itself began to reject me. When I came home from work, the smart lock refused to open, no matter what. Yet my husband, Rod Becher, opened it with a single touch. The stove wouldn't light when I turned the knob, but ignited instantly for him. Every light I switched on flickered and died within seconds. My side of the bed grew colder with each passing night. Our clothes in the wardrobe twisted themselves into impossible knots. When I reached for ice water, the dispenser shot out boiling liquid instead, blistering my hand in an instant. Even the sofa, perfectly sturdy moments before, collapsed beneath my weight, shattering my shin. In desperation, I wanted to replace everything. But Rod ran his hands through his hair, distressed. "We've already replaced half this house once, Penny. Doing it again will bankrupt us." My mother-in-law, Jennifer Becher, rapped her knuckles against the table. "There's nothing wrong with any of it. Stop taking your stress out on the furniture." Even our son, Devin Becher, pointed an accusing finger at me. "Mom, you make such a racket every single day. Please just be quiet and let me finish my homework." With no other choice, I endured it. But day by day, my nerves frayed, until one missed step on the stairs sent me crashing down. My head struck the floor with a sickening crack. Before my last breath, desperation washed over me. Why was my life such a misery? Did our house have a mind of its own? But why? What had I done to deserve this? When I opened my eyes again, I found myself transported back to the very day of our tenth wedding anniversary. After work, I stood before the door, punching in the code over a dozen times with no success. When Rod arrived with Devin, he pressed the buttons once. The lock clicked open immediately. "It's been a long day, hasn't it? You must have entered the wrong code." I couldn't believe it, so I shut the door and tried again. The lock remained sealed. "Never mind, honey. Just get inside. It's freezing out here." As he reached for the handle, I caught his wrist. "Wait. Devin, you try." Devin rolled his eyes, pouting with impatience. His fingers moved lazily across the keypad. "See? Can I do my homework now?" Something cold settled in my stomach. I turned away, heading straight for the kitchen, and twisted the stove knob. Not even a spark. After several frustrated minutes, Rod walked in to start dinner. The flame roared to life the moment he touched it. "I'll cook tonight. You need some rest." Fine. I retreated to the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe. Our clothes hung in perfect, pristine rows. It was all happening exactly as before. In my previous life, the problems had only multiplied after I'd replaced the lock and stove. So, should I replace them now? I didn't think so. Rod could handle the door and the cooking anyway. This time, I would find out why this house hated me, and I would live. "Dad, your cooking is way worse than Mom's." Devin made a face at dinner, spitting out a barely-chewed bite onto his plate. Rod tapped his head lightly. "Hey, kiddo, I didn't raise you to be such a picky eater." But the next moment, Rod's expression soured. He spat something onto his plate, half a small green worm. Calmly, I fished two jagged pieces of eggshell from the scrambled eggs. "Honey... I guess I'll have to leave our meals to you after all." Rod poked suspiciously at his plate before taking a cautious bite. "You know, we've had that stove for years now. It's old. And the lock, too. Let's just replace them both." "But they work perfectly fine for you and Devin. It's only me they don't work for." I didn't agree readily. Last time, I had been the one to insist on replacements, unable to stand another day of his terrible cooking. But this time, I'd said nothing. Yet here he was, suggesting it first. Was he behind this? Still, I agreed in the end. The technician was scheduled for a time I'd normally be at work, so I requested leave. "You need time off to wait for an appliance repair? Do you think this is a daycare center?" My supervisor, Colin Buck, slammed his coffee mug down. He refused outright. Yet when I finally got home, the technician had just arrived. "You wanted to oversee it yourself, so I had him reschedule for later," Rod explained. His eyes held that patient warmth I'd fallen in love with years ago. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt for suspecting him. Ten years of marriage. He'd been a perfect husband. Given my difficult background, he had always been patient with me, and we rarely fought. He'd been the primary caregiver after Devin was born. And seeing how difficult my delivery had been, he'd even convinced his parents to drop their relentless pressure for a second child. By the time the technician finished his work, darkness had fallen outside. I suggested we eat out. After a warm meal, we walked home carrying drinks, and for the first time in what felt like ages, something like peace settled over me. I hadn't felt this relaxed in what seemed like a lifetime. In my previous life, I'd been perpetually on edge, waiting for the next disaster. At least tonight, I could shower and sleep in peace, I told myself. Tomorrow's trouble was for tomorrow. But when I opened the wardrobe, my breath caught in my throat. The clothes were tangled into a snarled mess, exactly like before. Panic rising, I rushed to the kitchen and twisted the gas stove knob with trembling fingers. It sputtered weakly, but refused to ignite. Rod had opened the door when we'd arrived home earlier. Recalling that, I ran outside and slammed the door shut behind me. With deliberate care, I entered the code. The lock refused to open. The nightmare was back.
"Penny, the supervisor is expecting you." As I walked into Colin's office on unsteady legs, I flinched at the sharp rap of his knuckles on the desk. "What did you do last night, rob banks? I reviewed an hour of security footage. You were asleep for fifty minutes of it!" I kept my head down, swallowing the shame and frustration that rose in my chest. "It won't happen again, sir." He took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee, his heavy-lidded gaze weighing me. "Let's hope so. Because next time, you'll be packing your things. This company doesn't carry dead weight." Back at my desk, I fought to keep my eyes open and work. The night before, my side of the bed had grown icy cold, so cold that two extra blankets had done nothing against it. I'd dragged them to the sofa instead, but the moment I lay down, the support beneath my waist gave way. Luckily, I was braced for it and grabbed the backrest. Otherwise, I would've fallen and broken a bone, just like last time. After a while, feeling better, I'd switched on the light to pour myself some water. Once again, the bulb barely flickered before dying. Under my phone's flashlight, I got near the water dispenser. I'd filled half a cup with hot water, then pressed the cold tap. But what poured out sent ribbons of steam curling into the air. If I had drunk it without thinking or spilled it, I'd have been scalded all over again. In the end, I'd left the cup on the nightstand to cool and crawled back into bed. My nerves were too frayed for sleep, and the water had sat untouched eventually. No one could understand my situation. My boss was unreasonable, yes, but I was lucky to have such a job at my age. And for that very reason, I didn't dare talk back at him. The good thing was that it was Friday. After work, I'd finally have time to dig deeper into whatever was happening to me. "Honey, what are you doing?" Rod was confused as he watched me lift the mattress, scissors in hand. I was done living in fear, just waiting to fall to my death. I had to find the cause. The scissors bit into the fabric, and I tore a slit along the edge. Inside, just ordinary latex foam. Disappointment washed over me. Why, then, did it grow colder the longer I lay on it? "Maybe you're run down. I'll ask Mom to bring over some soup. You need to rest and eat properly." I tried to refuse, but Jennifer showed up anyway. She keyed in the code herself, opened the door, and headed straight to the kitchen. Nothing went wrong. "Eat up, Penny. Look at those dark circles under your eyes." "Thanks, Mom." In my last life, before I insisted on replacing the furniture for the second time, Jennifer had always treated me like her own daughter. She never held back her thoughts. Now she leaned close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I've checked the house. Everything's fine. But if you keep feeling something's wrong, maybe it's something we can't explain. Should we have a medium come take a look?" I'd never believed in that kind of thing. Last time, I'd refused outright. But after the miracle happened to me, I nodded. The next day, a medium arrived. He moved slowly through each room, one hand trailing along the walls, the other held open at his side as though feeling for something invisible. After he circled the room, he stopped abruptly and turned to face me. His eyes settled on me and didn't move. My heart dropped into my stomach. Was he about to blame everything on me? I never should have agreed to this. Jennifer stepped forward, her face pale with worry. "Sir, please — what do you sense?" "Don't rush. What finds you was drawn by what surrounds you." He extended one finger, pointing just past my shoulder. "There's a heavy presence attached to you, ma'am. Something bitter. Unresolved." A chill crawled down my spine. I grabbed Rod's arm, my voice shaking. "What is it? Does it mean us harm?" "You were supposed to be abandoned, yet somehow, you managed to become a wife, enjoying ten years of comfort. That's why this is happening to you." He shook his head slowly, his expression grave. Then he turned his gaze directly on me. "If you don't walk away from this marriage within one month, not only you, but your child will suffer the consequences." After he left, I stared blankly at our wedding photo on the nightstand. These ten years had been happy. And to continue that, I'd endured every hardship of people judging me as an orphan girl who'd married up. Now, however, I was being told to give it all up, even if I'd done nothing wrong. "Don't think about it. It's all nonsense." Rod pulled me into his arms, his voice soft. "You'll always be my wife. Always." But from the living room, Jennifer's voice carried clearly over the phone, and every word hit like a verdict. "Alas, the medium was quite accurate, you know."
I was raised in an orphanage until I aged out of the system. So that part, at least, was true. I didn't want to believe the medium. I didn't want a divorce. But for Devin's sake, I rented a small apartment near the office. "Do you really have to go this far? Don't let his words get to you. We've made it ten years together..." "That's enough." I cut him off. "I'm going in. You should go home." I got out of the car before he could say another word to shake my resolve. "Just call often, okay? I'll bring Devin to see you." Before entering the apartment complex, I couldn't help myself and glanced back. The rear window was down. Devin sat in the backseat, his eyes red and swollen. When he saw me looking, he turned his face away. I knew my stubborn little boy had a soft heart. I hurried inside the apartment. I actually slept through the night in the rental. My phone rang just after I opened my eyes. Devin called me on Rod's phone. "Mom, come home!" His voice was bright, hopeful. "I just figured it out. Zoe's been crawling into your closet! He must've tangled all your clothes!" My heart softened despite everything. Zoe was the neighbor's hairless cat, and Devin adored him, bringing him over from time to time. Maybe the cat really was the culprit. "Okay, sweetie. I'll be home after work." "Not bad. Keep it up." Colin's voice came from directly behind me. Thank God I'd actually been working this time. At lunch, a coworker leaned across the table. "Everything okay at home, Penny? You looked so down the past few days, but today you're practically glowing." "It's nothing," I said, but deep inside, I was so relieved. If the cat had caused the mess of the clothes, it wouldn't be long before I uncovered the root of all that happened to me. After work, I ran into my neighbor, Elvira Yerkes, in the hallway, so I asked casually if Zoe was around. "Oh, he's been gone for days. My daughter took him to her grandpa's place in the countryside." All the strength drained from my body. I couldn't help but lean against the wall for support. Zoe had been gone for three days. But my clothes had been tangled into a knotted mess in his absence. It wasn't the right time for me to return home. "Penny! Oh my God, Penny — I've been looking everywhere for you!" A woman in her fifties rushed toward me, grabbing my arm. A man about the same age stood behind her. "You've got the wrong person." Not in the mood, I tried to pull free. "No — you're my daughter!" She yanked my sleeve up past my elbow. "You were born with a small growth right here. Your father fought with the doctors just to get it removed when you were a baby!" Some of the tension left my expression despite myself. "Sweetheart, we searched for so long to find you. Can we go somewhere and talk?" She said it while pressing the back of her hand to her cheek — yet not a single tear glistened there. I brought them back to the apartment and got them some water. "I thought we were close to your house. Why did you bring us here?" I didn't answer. I just wanted to know why they'd really come. "Listen," the woman said, setting down her cup with a sharp clink. "We need to be honest with you. Your father's been sick. The hospital bills have wiped us out completely. We're in serious debt — close to twenty thousand dollars — and we have no way to cover it." She leaned forward, her voice softening into something practiced and rehearsed. "You're family. You're the only one who can help us right now." "Get out." I grabbed a mop from the corner and advanced on them both. I was six or seven when I got lost, old enough to remember what things were really like. One day, Dad came home drunk, same as always. Mom couldn't take it anymore and dragged me to a grocery store, planning to grab a few things before catching a bus out of town. But the store was packed, and in the chaos, I was separated from her. I wasn't sure she ever looked for me. I ended up in the foster system and eventually aged out of an orphanage. And now, after all these years, the first thing out of her mouth wasn't how I'd survived or where I'd been. It was a number — a debt she expected me to pay. No way I'd grant her wish. Rod should have been home by now. I needed to see him, to pour out everything. I reached our doorstep and hesitated. Instinctively, I stood on my toes and peered through the peephole. What I saw made my blood run cold. I covered my mouth to stifle a scream and staggered backward. I saw it. I finally saw it. The real reason the home I'd shared for ten years had turned against me.
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