My new home, Rose Cottage, is perfect. The landlady has just one rule: no men. What happens if I break it?

It seemed perfect for me and my five-year-old daughter, Lily — a pretty little cottage on a quiet country farm. Our landlady, Mrs Skinner, greets us with a bone-crushing hug. She seems nice, motherly even. She brings homemade cakes, freshly baked bread, and cheese.

Then came the rule. No male visitors.

I told myself it didn’t matter. We needed somewhere safe. Anywhere was better than the women’s refuge.

But soon there are red flags. Mrs Skinner’s son watches me a little too closely. My lipstick disappears. Lily wakes screaming that there’s a stranger in her room.

And when I ask about the last tenant — the one who vanished, leaving all her furniture behind — Mrs Skinner just smiles, and says she only wants to protect us.

But what happens when I break her rules?