Sneak in

Once your prey disappears inside, you sprint across the street and leap up onto the drain pipe, surprising yourself with how high you reach, and how easily you pull your not insubstantial weight up as you climb, flinging yourself onto the window ledge and pulling yourself inside in a matter of seconds.

You enter what seems to be a fairly plain bedroom, as far as you can tell. Nothing really noteworthy to see, just a modest smart tv hung up opposite a single bed, a modern wardrobe missing a knob, a bedside drawer with a lamp on top, and a bookcase with only about half a shelve's worth of books.

You can hear her footsteps downstairs clear as day, with such clarity that you can tell at what point she kicks off her shoes and goes barefoot, and when she goes from carpet to the linoleum of the kitchen floor.

As much as you'd like to rush down and pounce, she might have the chance to scream, and as you've no idea the layout of the rest of the house, you can't gurantee you'll be able to sneak up on her. You'll likely have to take those risks at some point if you continue feeding, but for now, your happy to wait for dinner to come to you.