Written for Friday fictioneers.
We were thinking of converting the attic into a room for our eldest son, Ben. He was up there cleaning it out on his own when he shouted down with an odd question. “Mum, has anybody ever died in here?”
“Not as far as I’m aware, why?”
“I’ve found something that a relative would appreciate. We need to find old owners.” He came down and handed me a wire basket filled with black-and-white photos. I recognised nobody there, so Ben started to Google our address.
“These are different women. Hang on, We’re potentially looking at evidence of an old stalker! ”