I didn’t notice it the first time. That’s the part that scares me now, how ordinary everything was.

I came home at 8:17 p.m. I remember because the elevator clock was two minutes slow, and I made a mental note to complain to the building manager, like I always do and never actually follow through on. The corridor smelled faintly of cleaning liquid and someone’s burnt dinner. Normal. Safe. Boring. I unlocked my apartment, kicked off my shoes near the door, and dropped my bag on the couch.