Suzanne stood outside. The plot of land next to the bus held a row of three red-brick townhouses. Each of the plots was huge, making the row of houses look a little lost, standing in the middle of it with dozens of yards of free space on all sides. She walked towards them across the grass that bordered the road. Pavement was laid in front of the houses, but it just stopped at the edges of the row, as if cut with scissors. Beyond the curb, there was just grass, where normally there would have been a road. A few linden trees were planted in front of the houses, with little fences around the tree pits.

She looked up at the front of the house in the middle row. The wind was blowing softly, rustling the leaves on the trees, and a few birds sang. The sheer curtains were drawn and reflected a white glare, revealing no details of the interiors. If anyone was inside, she couldn’t see them.

A stone balustrade guarded the sides of the stairway leading up to a dark green door. She walked up and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. She rang it again. Nothing. She held her finger on the button for nearly a minute. An uninterrupted chime rang, slightly muffled through the door. Suzanne rapped on the door.

"Anyone home? Hello?" she called. There was no answer. She looked at the doorknob and made a decision. It turned easily, and the door swung open, revealing a clean, white-walled entrance hall. The floor was a light brown wood parquet. An expensive looking coat and shoe rack stood against a wall next to a small upholstered bench. There were no shoes or coats to be seen anywhere. Everything looked new, unused and free of any dust. This place didn’t have the faint lived-in smell that any inhabited dwelling eventually developed.

She stepped inside and called out again, just in case anyone was here after all. Her sneakers made almost no noise on the floor as she walked further inside. The decor was pretty, with tasteful wall hangings and vases in muted colors here and there. But everything had a distinctly uninhabited feeling to it, as if she had walked into a furniture store’s demonstration room. She passed through the hallway and entered a large living room.

Like the rest of the place, the furniture and decor here were of obvious high quality. Two cream couches strewn with little cushions stood facing each other, separated by a wood and steel coffee table. A soft rug was sprawled underneath. On the opposite side of the table stood a love seat on which someone had placed a shiny white mannequin in a sitting position. The thing was vaguely male-looking but had even less definition than the ones she usually saw in shops. Suzanne was wondering if it was some kind of prop, and shrieked in shock when it suddenly stood up.