Chapter 1

My name is Penny Wilson. A decade into my marriage, the house itself began to reject me.

When I came home from work, the smart lock refused to open, no matter what. Yet my husband, Rod Becher, opened it with a single touch.

The stove wouldn't light when I turned the knob, but ignited instantly for him.

Every light I switched on flickered and died within seconds.

My side of the bed grew colder with each passing night.

Our clothes in the wardrobe twisted themselves into impossible knots.

When I reached for ice water, the dispenser shot out boiling liquid instead, blistering my hand in an instant.

Even the sofa, perfectly sturdy moments before, collapsed beneath my weight, shattering my shin.

In desperation, I wanted to replace everything.

But Rod ran his hands through his hair, distressed. "We've already replaced half this house once, Penny. Doing it again will bankrupt us."

My mother-in-law, Jennifer Becher, rapped her knuckles against the table. "There's nothing wrong with any of it. Stop taking your stress out on the furniture."

Even our son, Devin Becher, pointed an accusing finger at me. "Mom, you make such a racket every single day. Please just be quiet and let me finish my homework."

With no other choice, I endured it. But day by day, my nerves frayed, until one missed step on the stairs sent me crashing down. My head struck the floor with a sickening crack.

Before my last breath, desperation washed over me. Why was my life such a misery?

Did our house have a mind of its own? But why? What had I done to deserve this?

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself transported back to the very day of our tenth wedding anniversary.

After work, I stood before the door, punching in the code over a dozen times with no success.

When Rod arrived with Devin, he pressed the buttons once. The lock clicked open immediately.

"It's been a long day, hasn't it? You must have entered the wrong code."

I couldn't believe it, so I shut the door and tried again. The lock remained sealed.

"Never mind, honey. Just get inside. It's freezing out here."

As he reached for the handle, I caught his wrist. "Wait. Devin, you try."

Devin rolled his eyes, pouting with impatience. His fingers moved lazily across the keypad.

"See? Can I do my homework now?"

Something cold settled in my stomach. I turned away, heading straight for the kitchen, and twisted the stove knob. Not even a spark.

After several frustrated minutes, Rod walked in to start dinner. The flame roared to life the moment he touched it.

"I'll cook tonight. You need some rest."

Fine. I retreated to the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe. Our clothes hung in perfect, pristine rows.

It was all happening exactly as before. In my previous life, the problems had only multiplied after I'd replaced the lock and stove.

So, should I replace them now?

I didn't think so. Rod could handle the door and the cooking anyway.

This time, I would find out why this house hated me, and I would live.

"Dad, your cooking is way worse than Mom's." Devin made a face at dinner, spitting out a barely-chewed bite onto his plate.

Rod tapped his head lightly. "Hey, kiddo, I didn't raise you to be such a picky eater."

But the next moment, Rod's expression soured. He spat something onto his plate, half a small green worm.

Calmly, I fished two jagged pieces of eggshell from the scrambled eggs.

"Honey... I guess I'll have to leave our meals to you after all." Rod poked suspiciously at his plate before taking a cautious bite. "You know, we've had that stove for years now. It's old. And the lock, too. Let's just replace them both."

"But they work perfectly fine for you and Devin. It's only me they don't work for."

I didn't agree readily. Last time, I had been the one to insist on replacements, unable to stand another day of his terrible cooking.

But this time, I'd said nothing. Yet here he was, suggesting it first.

Was he behind this?

Still, I agreed in the end. The technician was scheduled for a time I'd normally be at work, so I requested leave.

"You need time off to wait for an appliance repair? Do you think this is a daycare center?"

My supervisor, Colin Buck, slammed his coffee mug down. He refused outright.

Yet when I finally got home, the technician had just arrived.

"You wanted to oversee it yourself, so I had him reschedule for later," Rod explained.

His eyes held that patient warmth I'd fallen in love with years ago. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt for suspecting him.

Ten years of marriage. He'd been a perfect husband.

Given my difficult background, he had always been patient with me, and we rarely fought.

He'd been the primary caregiver after Devin was born. And seeing how difficult my delivery had been, he'd even convinced his parents to drop their relentless pressure for a second child.

By the time the technician finished his work, darkness had fallen outside. I suggested we eat out.

After a warm meal, we walked home carrying drinks, and for the first time in what felt like ages, something like peace settled over me.

I hadn't felt this relaxed in what seemed like a lifetime. In my previous life, I'd been perpetually on edge, waiting for the next disaster.

At least tonight, I could shower and sleep in peace, I told myself. Tomorrow's trouble was for tomorrow.

But when I opened the wardrobe, my breath caught in my throat. The clothes were tangled into a snarled mess, exactly like before.

Panic rising, I rushed to the kitchen and twisted the gas stove knob with trembling fingers. It sputtered weakly, but refused to ignite.

Rod had opened the door when we'd arrived home earlier. Recalling that, I ran outside and slammed the door shut behind me.

With deliberate care, I entered the code. The lock refused to open.

The nightmare was back.