In the store, I did a good deed and paid for the groceries of a poor elderly woman; in gratitude, she quietly whispered to me: “If your husband leaves tonight and tells you to clear the snow — don’t touch anything” 

At first, I didn’t give those words any importance. But in the morning, when I stepped outside, I saw something that made my blood run cold… 

Standing in line at our local grocery store, I clutched the bag to my chest and counted the money in my head. Outside, the snowstorm was so strong that the street was almost impossible to see — the snow had been falling nonstop for several days.

In front of me at the checkout stood a very old woman. She rummaged through her wallet for a long time, placing coins on the counter one by one.

The cashier looked at the money with irritation and shook her head.
— It’s not enough. Just a little short.

The old woman grew embarrassed and began counting the coins again, as if hoping they would somehow multiply. Her hands were red and cracked from the cold.

Without even realizing it, I stepped forward.
— Add it to my purchase, — I said, handing over a bill. — I’ll pay.

The elderly woman slowly raised her eyes to me. There were no tears or surprise in them — only a strange, intensely attentive look. She grabbed my sleeve and said softly, almost in a whisper:

— If your husband leaves tonight and tells you to clear the snow — don’t touch anything. Trust me, it will be better for you.

I didn’t understand right away what she meant. I simply nodded. She let go of my arm, nodded back, and hurried out of the store, as if afraid of being stopped.

That evening, my husband got ready to leave. He was in a bad mood, grumbling, and ordered me to clear the yard. Then he left, slamming the door behind him.

I had already picked up the shovel, but suddenly I remembered the old woman’s words. For some reason, they echoed in my head with frightening clarity. And I decided — I wouldn’t go outside. I would do everything in the morning.

During the night, the snowstorm only grew stronger.

And early in the morning, when I stepped outside, I saw something that plunged me into real horror…  Continuation in the first comment 

The snow in the yard lay perfectly smooth and untouched, as if someone had deliberately leveled it during the night. No footprints, no tire tracks, no marks of any kind.

I stepped onto the porch and shivered — not so much from the cold as from the strange feeling inside me.

And then I noticed them.

Shallow depressions in the snow right in front of the entrance. Not footprints, no. As if someone had been standing in one place for a long time. Standing there, staring at the door. I crouched down and ran my hand over it — the snow was pressed down, but not shifted. That meant it had happened at night, when everything was already covered.

I straightened up sharply and looked around. There was no one in sight.

For some reason, the old woman’s words from the store came back to me again. Not as a strange coincidence, but as a warning I hadn’t understood at the time.

That same day, rumors began to spread along the street. During the night, something terrible had happened in the neighboring house. Someone had broken in, the house had been robbed, and the owners hadn’t survived.

I listened and felt the cold slowly rising inside me.

Then they said that the man had gone from yard to yard. He checked where people were, where lights were on, where the snow had been cleared — places where it was obvious the residents went outside at night.

For some reason, he had skipped our house.

That morning, I didn’t go out into the yard again. I simply stood by the window and looked at the untouched snow — the snow that had saved me from disaster.