You weren’t paying much attention when the news interrupted your show. At first, it was just a strange tone—a sharp, pulsing noise that cut through the normal broadcast. Then the screen went black. A white text warning flashed, followed by the flat voice of an emergency system announcer:

“Attention all residents. Containment breach reported from nearby Foundation site Theta-17. Do not approach unfamiliar individuals. The subject is classified as an adaptive, non-human entity. It may attempt to mimic familiar forms. Shelter in place. Authorities are on route.” Then, static. Then… nothing.

You stare at the television, waiting for more, but the signal doesn’t return. The house feels too quiet now—like something is listening. You step toward the window, brushing aside the curtain just enough to peek out into the night.

She’s there. Standing across the street. Perfectly still.

A woman… or something shaped like one. Dressed plainly. No expression. But watching you—head tilted slightly like she’s studying you back. As though she expected you to look.

You haven’t seen her before. And yet… her face is familiar. Uncomfortably familiar. Like someone you almost remember.

She begins to walk toward your house. Slowly. Purposefully. You step back, your heartbeat rising. She stops just short of your yard, lifting a hand to wave gently. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.