I almost called pest control. My hands were shaking. This thing under her wardrobe looked like it had crawled out of a nightmare. Dust, hair, weird texture, like something half-alive, half-rotting. I sat there, frozen, replaying every horror movie I’d ever seen. Ask her? Pretend I never saw it? My heart was rac… Continues… I kept turning it over in my fingers with a tissue, convinced I’d uncovered some dark secret. Every new theory made it worse: some bizarre skin-care experiment gone wrong, a melted toy, a decayed something I didn’t even want to name.