He approached the bed cautiously, reaching out to gently pull back the covers. What lay beneath was a mockery of what I believed was my wife. It was a mannequin, dressed in one of her nightgowns, its lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat.

“But… how?” I stammered, reeling from the shock. My mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Just this morning, she had kissed me goodbye, complaining of a headache. We had laughed about our dinner plans, and she promised to be home early.