SNEAKING INTO HER OLD APARTMENT I FOUND HIS PHOTO UNDER THE LOOSE FLOORBOARD
The key felt cold and foreign in my hand as I pushed open the heavy, creaking door to her abandoned apartment. I knew I shouldn’t be here, but the feeling had been gnawing at me for days.
Stepping inside, the air was thick with cold dust and stale cigarette smoke, choking me slightly. My breath was a white cloud in the single beam of my phone’s focused light, cutting through the absolute gloom of the closed-up space. This place felt dead and forgotten, the air heavy with secrets.
My hands trembled slightly as I found the edge of the loose floorboard near the stained window – just where he said she always kept things. I used an old letter opener I brought to pry it up, the wood groaning softly in protest against the years of being hidden away.
There it was. A small, bundled stack of things wrapped loosely in a rubber band. On top, *his* photo, tucked face up. Smiling that awful, knowing smile like nothing was wrong. Underneath, a folded piece of thick, cream-colored paper. “What… what in God’s name is this?” I mumbled to myself, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I pulled the paper out, unfolding it carefully under my phone’s harsh, glaring LED light. It wasn’t just a letter; it was a hand-drawn diagram. A detailed layout of *our* house. Marked with specific notes about entry points, alarm systems, and optimal timing, written in *her* familiar, elegant handwriting. The ink was faded but clear enough to read the chilling instructions.
Then the floorboard upstairs groaned directly over my head.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*I froze, every muscle tensing. The groan wasn’t the settling of an old building; it was distinct, directly above me. Then came the soft, deliberate creak of a floorboard, followed by another, moving slowly towards the top of the stairs. Someone else was here. My blood ran cold.
Panic seized me, a cold, sharp claw raking down my spine. I scrambled, shoving the diagram and photo into my jacket pocket, my hand trembling so violently I fumbled the loose floorboard back into place, the click sounding impossibly loud in the silence. Where to hide? The small living room offered little cover, only dust-sheeted furniture casting eerie shapes in the faint light from my phone, which I instantly dimmed.
I darted towards a large, draped armchair, squeezing myself into the narrow space between it and the wall, pulling the dust sheet slightly around me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. The footsteps on the stairs grew louder, slower, accompanied by a soft, rhythmic scraping sound.
A sliver of light appeared at the top of the stairs, then a figure began to descend. It wasn’t her. This person was taller, heavier, moving with a heavy weariness. As they reached the bottom step and paused, the scraping noise stopped. They had a large, duffel bag slung over their shoulder, and they were holding a flashlight, its beam sweeping across the room. I held my breath, praying the dust sheet was enough, that my trembling wasn’t visible.
The light beam moved past me, illuminating the empty space by the window where I’d just been. The person sighed, a deep, frustrated sound. They lowered the flashlight, its beam now pointed at the floor, and shuffled further into the room, dropping the heavy bag with a thud that made me flinch.
“Damn it,” they muttered, their voice rough and low. “Thought she might have left it here.”
Left *what* here? My mind raced. Were they looking for the same diagram? Or something else connected to their plot? This person was clearly linked to her, and likely him too. The betrayal ran even deeper than I’d first understood.
They started rummaging through the drawers of a nearby dresser, the wood protesting loudly as they were yanked open. This was my chance. While their attention was focused elsewhere, I needed to move.
Inch by agonizing inch, I began to shift, trying to create no sound against the floorboards or the dust sheet. My muscles screamed with the effort of moving so slowly, so carefully. I edged back towards the door, my eyes fixed on the figure by the dresser.
They slammed a drawer shut in frustration. “Nothing.”
They turned back towards the stairs, picking up their bag. It seemed they weren’t staying. Relief washed over me, cold and weak. I stayed frozen until I heard their heavy steps ascend the stairs again, the creaks fading as they moved further into the apartment above.
Silence returned, thick and suffocating, broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing. I waited another minute, then another, listening intently. No more sounds from upstairs.
Slowly, I unfolded myself from my hiding place, my limbs stiff and aching. My phone light seemed blinding now. I needed to get out. Quietly, I moved to the door, fumbling with the cold, foreign key, my hands still shaking. It turned in the lock with a soft click. I pulled the door open just enough to slip through, easing it shut behind me.
Outside, the night air was cool and clean, a stark contrast to the stagnant air inside. I leaned against the cold brick of the building, gulping in lungfuls of air, my legs feeling like jelly. In the faint glow of a distant streetlamp, I pulled out the crumpled diagram and the photo.
His smiling face seemed like a mask now, hiding a chilling intent. Her elegant handwriting on the diagram was a testament to a cold, calculated plan. They hadn’t just betrayed me; they had planned to destroy everything I shared with him, everything I thought we had. The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity – the strange questions he’d asked, the sudden ‘business trips’, the way she’d vanished from our lives only to reappear in this twisted blueprint.
I looked back at the dark, silent apartment building. The person upstairs was still there, a hidden accomplice or maybe even another victim in their twisted game. But I had the truth now. The evidence. My heart was broken, but my mind was suddenly clear. I knew what I had to do. Clutching the diagram and photo, the cold wind cutting through my jacket, I turned and walked away from the shadows, towards the distant lights, carrying the weight of their dark secret and the heavy burden of deciding the future.