She moved slowly through the house, checking the hallway, the bathroom, the study. All normal. Until she stepped into the kitchen. Instantly, the screen dipped—seventeen degrees. A full five-degree drop. Her heart jumped. She stepped back into the hallway. Twenty-two. Back into the kitchen. Seventeen. Again and again, the pattern held. It wasn’t her imagination.
She lingered at the threshold, watching the numbers shift as she crossed into the space. She checked every inch of the space but didn’t find anything unusual. Anything to explain the temperature drop. Her breath trembled in her chest.
But a strange sense of relief came with it. She was right. She hadn’t imagined it. She didn’t know what to make of it, but it felt a solid lead that could guide her to the answers. Room by room, she swept the ground floor, scanning corners, vents, and closets. And slowly, a disturbing pattern began to emerge.
In five separate spots—each near a vent or grating—the temperature dropped by the same margin. Every reading matched. Every space was silent and still, yet the temperature shifted without any outside interference. All the doors and windows were closed, the AC turned off.