Something odd has been going on at the Baird house.   The family would find half eaten bowls of cereal on the table in the morning, or the television turned onto the sports or comedy channel.  Furniture would be subtly displaced, as if someone had stubbed their toe on it and never bothered to readjust it.   And constantly at night, they’d feel as if someone was in the room with them. When they looked around, no one would be there. 

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