It was midnight. My husband covered it with a towel, and we went to sleep. At 2 a.m., the door burst open. The Airbnb owner stormed in, furious, screaming, “You idiots, this is a… …fire alarm!“ My husband and I sat up in bed, blinking like deer caught in headlights. The owner, a man in his late fifties with graying hair and a Hawaiian-print shirt that looked wildly out of place given the situation, stood in the doorway, panting. His eyes darted between us and the towel-covered device….CONTINUE READING IN BELOW
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