THE HOUSE OF SECRETS
My mom told me not to visit for three months because of *“renovations.”*
It was weird, sure, but I didn’t think much of it. We were close, but she valued her space, so I respected it.
Then her phone calls started changing. **They got shorter.** **Colder.** She always sounded distracted, like she wanted to get off the phone as soon as possible.
Something felt **off.**
So, I decided to check on her—**unannounced.**
### **THE EMPTY HOUSE**
When I arrived, **the house looked normal from the outside.** No construction trucks, no equipment—just the same white house I grew up in.
But then I noticed something odd.
Mom’s **garden was overgrown.**
She took pride in her flowers, always keeping them trimmed and fresh. Seeing them **wild and neglected** made my stomach twist.
I knocked. No answer.
I tried calling. Straight to voicemail.
I pulled out the spare key and stepped inside.
### **NO RENOVATIONS. JUST… EMPTINESS.**
I expected a mess. **Dust, plastic sheets, workers’ tools—something.**
Instead, the house was **clean. Too clean.**
But **empty.**
**Her furniture was still there, but the warmth was gone.** No cozy blanket on the couch. No books stacked on the coffee table. **No sign that anyone had truly *lived* here in months.**
I rushed upstairs, my heartbeat hammering.
And then I saw her.
### **THE WOMAN IN THE BEDROOM**
She was **sitting on her bed, staring at the wall.**
Her clothes were wrinkled. Her hair, unbrushed. **She didn’t even flinch when I walked in.**
My heart stopped.
**”Mom?”** My voice cracked.
She turned slowly, blinking like she had forgotten how to react.
And then she whispered, **”You weren’t supposed to come.”**
### **THE CHILLING TRUTH**
I sat next to her, gripping her hands. They were ice-cold.
**”What’s going on? What renovations? Why are you acting like this?”**
She inhaled sharply, as if deciding something.
Then she whispered, **”I didn’t want you to see him.”**
**”See who?”**
Her eyes flickered to the **closet.**
My breath hitched. **Someone was here.**
I stood up, my hands shaking.
And then—**a thump from inside the closet.**
I nearly ran. Every instinct screamed at me to leave.
But then I saw **a lock on the outside of the closet door.**
I turned to her, horrified. **”Mom… what did you do?”**
Her lip trembled. **”He wouldn’t leave. So I locked him in.”**
### **THE DOOR OPENS…**
I reached for the lock. **My heart pounded as I turned it.**
The door creaked open.
And inside…
A **man** sat hunched in the corner, his **eyes sunken, his face gaunt.**
But what made my blood run cold?
**He looked exactly like my father.**
The father who had died **five years ago.**