My husband has been talking in his sleep. Last night, he answered something I didn’t say.

My husband has always talked in his sleep.

Nothing creepy at first. Just random, half-formed sentences. Stuff about work, grocery lists, once he sat up and said “don’t forget the bananas” and then laid back down like nothing happened. It used to make me laugh.

About three weeks ago, it changed.

The first time, I woke up around 2:30 in the morning because I heard him whispering. Not mumbling. Whispering like he was trying not to be heard.

I thought he was awake and on his phone, so I rolled over to tell him to keep it down.

He was facing the wall. Completely still.

Still whispering.

I couldn’t make out everything, but I heard one sentence clearly.

“She’s not ready yet.”

I froze for a second, then nudged his shoulder. He stopped immediately. Just silence. When I asked him what he was talking about, he sounded groggy and confused.

“I wasn’t talking,” he said.

I brushed it off. People say weird things in their sleep.

But it kept happening.

Every couple of nights, I would wake up to him whispering again. Always facing away from me. Always too quiet to fully understand.

Until last night.

I woke up because I felt something.

You know that feeling when someone is watching you. Not a sound. Not movement. Just this heavy awareness.

My eyes opened slowly. The room was dark except for a bit of light coming from the hallway.

My husband was sitting up in bed.

He was facing me this time.

I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could tell his eyes were open.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond.

He just kept staring at me.

Then he tilted his head slightly, like he was listening to something.

And that’s when I heard it.

A voice.

Not his.

It was faint, like it was coming from somewhere far away. I couldn’t make out where. It wasn’t in the room exactly, but it wasn’t outside either. It sounded like it was right behind me.

I held my breath and listened.

“…can she hear me?”

The voice was quiet, almost curious.

My entire body went cold.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move.

My husband nodded.

Slowly.

“Yes,” he whispered.

My heart started pounding so hard I thought I was going to pass out.

I hadn’t said a word.

The voice spoke again.

“…does she know?”

He shook his head this time.

“No,” he said. “Not yet.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached out and grabbed his arm.

The second I touched him, he collapsed back onto the pillow like a puppet with its strings cut.

Dead asleep.

I turned on the lamp so fast I nearly knocked it over. He looked completely normal. Breathing steady. Eyes closed.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

This morning, I asked him if he remembered anything.

He laughed it off.

Said I probably had a nightmare.

But here’s the part I haven’t told him yet.

I checked the hallway camera this morning. We have one set up because of a break-in last year.

At 2:37 AM, right around when this happened, the camera recorded something.

The hallway light flicked on by itself.

And then, for about ten seconds, the audio picked up whispering.

It wasn’t my husband.

It wasn’t me.

And right before the clip ends, you can hear him clearly.

From inside the bedroom.

Answering it.

“If she wakes up, you have to leave.”