Chapter 1: The Secret Compartment

I built a special bed.

It lets me hide inside a secret compartment where no one can find me.

Every night, when the lights go out, she curls up right above me—close enough that I can almost feel her heartbeat through the boards.

1

My name is Derek Foster. I’m a furniture maker.

The new bed is finally finished.

I flip the switch at the end of the bed and lift the wooden board.

I’ve already stashed a couple of granola bars, a bag of Doritos, and a six-pack of bottled water.

I crawl inside, close the switch, and vanish from the world.

Inside, I press the air pump, and the air mattress inflates.

The wooden board I’m lying on slowly rises until I fit perfectly into the hollow space I carved out in the mattress months ago.

It took a lot of effort back then to convince her to buy a latex mattress.

After all, my soft belly can mimic latex, making it hard for anyone to notice me.

If it were a spring mattress, it would’ve been way harder.

Once everything is ready, I wait, my heart pounding with excitement.

Soon, the shop gets noisy.

I hear the movers grumbling about how heavy this bed is.

The compartment smells faintly of sawdust and latex, the air stale but tinged with the scent of fresh wood. The light from the hallway slices through the cracks as I hunker down, listening to the familiar sounds of the shop—hammer strikes, sawdust drifting in the air, the radio in the background. I inhale the faint scent of wood polish and latex, feeling the anticipation curl in my gut. In the distance, the old clock on the wall chimes out five, signaling closing time. That’s when I know I’ll have her all to myself, hidden beneath her every nightfall. There’s a thrill in this secret, something that makes my skin tingle like the dry, electric air before a Midwest thunderstorm.