The storm knocked the power out as Mia tucked her son into bed. He clung to her, whispering that the man in the closet had been watching him again. She smiled, telling him it was only his imagination, then opened the closet to show him—nothing.
Later that night, she woke to her son’s laughter echoing from his room. But when she peeked inside, the bed was empty, the window wide open, and a second voice whispered from the dark closet, softly mocking her tone: “It was only your imagination".
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