The Day a Stranger Knocked — and Looked Exactly Like My Wife

That morning started like any other. My wife of eighteen years kissed me on the forehead before leaving for work, her perfume lingering in the air long after the front door closed. I was home sick that day—curled under a blanket, nursing a mild fever, and hoping a quiet day would set me right again.

But what happened next was anything but ordinary.

The Knock at the Door

Not long after she left, the doorbell rang. I shuffled to the door, expecting a delivery or maybe a neighbor. Instead, I froze.

Standing on the porch was my wife.

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