When my fiancé and I moved into a cheaper apartment, we thought the worst we’d face would be noisy neighbors or our strict landlady. But as we peeled off the old wallpaper and uncovered a message written in red, we had no idea it would expose secrets far darker than we imagined.

Change is always hard. It sneaks into your life quietly and rearranges everything before you even realize what’s happening.

A month ago, my fiancé Mark was demoted at work. We’d spent two years in a sunny apartment close to downtown.

But overnight, his paycheck shrank, and suddenly, my savings had to stretch further than I’d ever planned.

We started looking for a cheaper place, though I could already tell Mark hated the idea.

When I found this apartment, I thought it was fine, nothing fancy, but clean, bright, and close enough to my office. Mark disagreed the second he saw it.

“This is still too expensive,” he said.

“It’s the cheapest one that isn’t falling apart,” I replied. “If we go lower, we’ll have leaky ceilings and cockroaches running across the floor.”

“At least cockroaches don’t charge a security deposit.”

We argued until late that evening, words bouncing off the empty walls. In the end, he gave up, or maybe he just ran out of energy.

The next day, we signed the lease.

By the time I got off work on moving day, Mark had already brought most of the boxes.

When I arrived, I saw him standing in the hallway with an older woman.

“Oh,” I said. “Hi.”

“This is Mrs. Doyle,” Mark said.

“She owns the place.”

“So you’re the fiancée,” she said. “Before you settle in, I have a few rules.”

She handed me a printed sheet. “No guests without my permission.

No parties. No more than six visitors at once. No noise after eight p.m.

Cleaning, proper cleaning, every week. No pets of any kind. And if you plan to have children, I expect a year’s notice.”

“A year’s notice?”

“Children cause damage.

I like to be prepared.”

I forced a smile and nodded, the paper rustling in my hands. “Got it.”

“If you want to change anything in the apartment,” she continued, “even wallpaper, it must be approved by me first. And you’ll pay for it yourself.”

“Of course.”

“I live next door, so I’ll be keeping an eye on things.

I hope we’ll get along.” She turned and disappeared through her door.