By the time I locked up the clinic, the sky had turned a soft lavender, the last traces of sunlight stretching thin over the horizon. The air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of pine and fresh earth. It had been a long day, but a good one—the kind that left me pleasantly exhausted rather than drained.
Sliding into my car, I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. My dark brown hair was still neatly tied into a ponytail, my green eyes bright despite the long shift. Unlike some of my colleagues who ended the day looking like they'd wrestled a pack of feral cats, I prided myself on staying put-together. My scrubs were clean (mostly), and my makeup—minimal but effective—hadn't completely given up on me.
I started the engine and pulled onto the road, humming along to the upbeat pop song playing on the radio. My hands automatically reached for my phone at the red light, sending a quick voice note to Julie.
"Remind me to ban Mr. Jenkins from letting Princess anywhere near a trash can. That dog has a death wish, I swear. Also, Captain the parrot called me a 'useless human' today. I think I should be offended, but honestly, I respect the confidence."
Julie's response was almost immediate. "That bird is my spirit animal. Also, don't forget to relax tonight. No vet research, no work. Just Netflix and chill—actual chill, not the spicy kind."
I laughed, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat as I turned onto the winding backroad that led to my house.
Home was a cozy rental, small but charming, with white shutters and a porch swing I rarely used. The moment I stepped inside, I kicked off my shoes and sighed in relief. The place smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen—thanks to the overpriced candles I had a weakness for.
Tossing my bag onto the couch, I made a beeline for the fridge. Dinner was a quick affair—a bowl of pasta that I absolutely drowned in parmesan, paired with a glass of wine. I talked to myself as I moved around the kitchen, an old habit I never quite grew out of.
"Alright, Mia, what's the plan? Shower, pajamas, and a full-blown Netflix binge? Excellent choice."
After a quick shower, I settled onto the couch in my favorite oversized hoodie, tucking my legs beneath me as the TV screen flickered to life.
Scrolling through the options, I debated between a cheesy rom-com and a crime thriller.
"Rom-com it is," I announced to absolutely no one. "Because murder before bed is probably a bad idea."
Just as I was about to press play, it happened.
A sharp knock on the door.
I frowned, my heart skipping a beat. It was late. No one ever just showed up at my place unannounced.
I hesitated, the warmth of my cozy night suddenly feeling fragile. Slowly, I stood, padding toward the door.
Another knock. Firm. Measured.
Through the peephole, all I saw was darkness.
Then—movement.
A shadow shifting just beyond the glow of the porch light. Then another. And another.
A prickle of unease crawled down my spine.
Something wasn't right.