The Woman Downstairs

On the first day I meet my new neighbour, we share a glass of wine and talk into the night. But as I get closer to her, I discover she isn't who I thought she was. Then when I step into her home, my jaw drops. Everything in here is identical to my own flat - every cushion, every picture on the wall. Except for the knife, covered in blood. My heart pounds in my chest. What has she done? I should never have got close to her. I need to run. Then I hear a creak outside the door. And I realise, it may be too late.