The Empty Room

Every house on the street had curtains in the windows. Every house except one.

The house at the end of Oak Street had been empty for three years. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the story or thought they did. The owner had left suddenly. No explanation, no forwarding address. Just a locked door and a "For Sale" sign with faded letters.

Nina walked past it every day on her way to work. She had learned to stop looking at it.

Until the morning she saw light in the upstairs window.

She stopped. It was 6:47 AM and still dark outside. But the light was there — warm and steady, like a lamp. Not a flashlight. A lamp.

She took out her phone to photograph it.

By the time the camera focused, the light was gone.

Nina stood on the sidewalk for a moment, unsure whether she had imagined it. She looked down at her phone. The photo had captured the window clearly.

The window was dark. But in the corner of the glass, just barely visible, was the outline of a hand.