By the third night, my mind spiraled. I thought about everything that could be hiding just out of sight. Bed bugs tucked deep into mattress seams, invisible but patient. Fleas lingering in carpet fibers long after their original hosts were gone. Dust mites thriving in pillows that had absorbed years of sleep, sweat, and breath. Mold spores drifting quietly through the air, chemical residues
clinging to fabric from decades of cleaners and previous tenants. Some bumps faded quickly, others pulsed angrily when I scratched, and lying awake, I wondered if my body had recognized the danger long before my brain had caught up.That morning, I finally listened. I stripped the bed and checked every edge, every corner, every dark fold of fabric. I washed everything I owned on the hottest setting,