We both agreed that something was off and decided to investigate further. We contacted our realtor, who confirmed our worst fears: there was no record of anyone named Walter ever owning our house. Realizing we might have been deceived, Jonathan insisted we contact the police. As he made the call, I couldn’t help but replay the events of that day in my mind. What was Walter really after? Why did he lie about his connection to our home? It’s been two weeks since that unsettling encounter, and the unease hasn’t faded. Every creak and groan of the house now seems ominous, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something important. Perhaps the worst part is knowing that by letting Walter in, we may have opened ourselves up to dangers we never anticipated.Looking back, I realize how easily I was deceived by a desperate stranger’s plea. This experience taught me to always trust my instincts and to be cautious about who I let into my life. After all, you never know what secrets someone might be hiding—or what kind of trouble they might bring to your doorstep.