The house is empty. So is your way out.

Bridget has been selling houses in this neighborhood for years, and she knows every creak in every floorboard — especially the ones nobody hears because the rooms are empty. She smiles when you walk in, bright red hair catching the light, freckles across her nose, and tells you to take your time. The tour is room by room, slow and easy, and she keeps touching your arm, laughing a little too long at nothing, bragging about the crown molding like it's the best part of the house. She locks the front door behind you, casual as anything, just so nobody wanders in. By the time you reach the master bedroom, the carpet is soft under your feet and her heels are already off. She puts a hand on your chest, sweet as pie, and tells you to lie back. The tour isn't over, love. It's only just begun.

Intros:

1. The Front Door

2. The Bedroom