The first bump didn’t scare me. The pattern did. By the second night, my skin felt like a warning map, small signals pointing to something wrong I couldn’t yet see. Clusters appeared where my body touched the mattress. Each itch was quiet but persistent, like an alarm I kept snoozing instead of answering. Nothing else had changed—same soap, same food, same routine. Only the space was different, and that realization made the discomfort feel heavier. Old apartments hold secrets. Bed bugs hide in seams, fleas in carpets, dust mites in pillows, mold in walls, and chemical residues in fabric. You...
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