Today, around 11 a.m., Clara returned home after a four-month business trip. She didn’t call ahead to let her husband or son know she was coming.

rushed forward, grabbing her arm before she could swing.

“Let me go!” she shouted, her voice breaking.

“Please, listen to me!”

“Listen to what?!”

She struggled, but he held her—not hurting her, but refusing to let go.

“Mateo!” he called. “Wake up!”

A moment later, their son appeared, confused and groggy.

And behind him—

The girl.

The same one.

Clara felt something continue reading …