Her coffee cup slipped right out of her hand, it smashed into a thousand pieces on the kitchen floor, and as it shattered, the sound echoed through the room. It broke all silence in the house and in her mind, leaving her feeling shaken, disrupted, but finally she musters the courage to tiptoe around. Once she returns with a broom and dust pan, she notices something unusual on the ceramic; it was sticky and clear and smelled quite strange, but she couldn’t determine its origins. It appeared as though it was planted there, but she couldn’t imagine who’d put it there, or why they’d want her to drop her mug, why it made sense, or who would care. She couldn’t help think that it seemed awful silly, she lived alone and no one else had a key. There was no sign of a break in, no sign of evidence, no noticeable tampering near the cabinets.