It was autumn in Stillwater, a small town in upstate New York, when I found myself standing in a stranger's kitchen at 3 a.m., holding a key that didn't belong to me. The house at 8 Pinnacle Road was supposed to be empty — a rental listed by a woman named Claire, who I'd never met. But when I walked in, the kettle was warm, the radio played static between stations, and the photographs on the wall showed a family I almost recognized. Someone had been there moments before. Someone had left the back door open. And in the drawer next to the stove, I found a notebook with my name written in the margins, dated three years before I ever set foot in that town. This episode is about the things we find when we look for a place to stay, and the places that find us instead.

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