Yes

"Sure thing Jack" Emily replies. You walk down to the chippy and buy food for yourself and Emily, and the rest of the evening passes uneventfully. The two of you watch some TV, then Emily heads off to her room, leaving you to play video games by yourself.

The days continue, and soon you've quite forgotten about your supernatural encounter, assuming it was no more than a dream. Your life continues as it always has, though Emily seems to be getting stressed out, snapping at you with more and more frequency. She also seems to be hogging the washing machine, doing hot washes almost daily. In another development, your female work colleagues keep giving you funny looks, usually just before they disappear off to the bathrooms for what seems like a long time. You try to ignore it, but it's starting to get a bit unnerving, especially since the staff toilets are having evident drain issues given how often the company has had to call the plumber out to unblock them.

You come home one day to find Emily wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa. She looks terrible, her brow beaded with sweat her usually bouncy blonde curls slicked instead to her forehead and a tremor in her limbs as she looks vacantly at the TV.

"Hey Em, you got the lurgy?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light so as not to offend her. She looks up at you, eyes bleary for a moment before focussing on your with a terrible intensity. You flinch, expecting her to blow up as she has so many times of late, but instead she lets out a strangled squeak and rushes to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Your nose wrinkles as you spot the small pile of used tissues left behind on the coffee table, gingerly putting them in the bin and washing your hands thoroughly afterwards, before sitting down to watch TV. Out of concern for Emily you keep the volume low, her bedroom being right above the living room, which means you can hear the bed creaking as she tosses and turns in the grip of whatever ails her.

Later, as you head to bed yourself, you knock lightly on her door, "You ok in there Em?" but the only reply you get is a guttural moan. Shaking your head, you make your way to your room and turn in for the night.