Wanda bit her lip as she rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants as she waited on the leather couch in her living room. She could still hear the shower running upstairs but she couldn’t fight the feeling that she was being watched. She didn’t know why, but she promised not to call anyone until he explained himself. He could hold the answers to the nightmares that she had buried away after four different psychiatrists and nine years.

Suddenly, the shower stopped and the strange man, James, called out, “My clothes is soaked. You got anything else I could wear temporarily?”

Wanda felt her ears burning for some reason as she headed to the garage. She looked around the dusty room and found a large cardboard box. She struggled to pick it up and carried it back up the stairs to the door of the bathroom. She dropped the heavy box on the floor and knocked on the door.

James’ head poked through and he glanced at the box, “Clothes?”

“They were my dad’s. See if something fits you.” Wanda answered and walked away.