Invasion Of Privacy

Tammy's on the phone, barefoot, still moving things around her brand-new place after the split. She tells her friend she finally feels free, but admits little things keep vanishing. A week later she steps out of the shower, towel high on her tits and another wrapped around her wet hair. She stops cold—one cigarette lying dead on the floor. She doesn’t smoke, so she snatches it up, heart thumping, scanning every corner like the walls are watching. She rings the super, Ray, demanding to know if any maintenance guys have been inside. He swears nobody’s come through and suggests the old tenant might still have a key. That rattles her even harder. Days later she comes home to the door half-open. She panics, calls Ray again, and he shows up fast to swap the locks. She thanks him, smiling, feeling safe—totally unaware the man changing her locks already knows every inch of her apartment from the inside.