Deeply shaken by the encounter, I go around the house obsessively checking locks, drawing drapes closed, and generally acting as paranoid as I feel. I assume the boy came in through the back door after I went through it, but I can’t come up with an explanation for how he got out. I should’ve run right into him coming down the staircase, but didn’t.
He literally vanished into thin air.
I’d call Jake and ask him to install more cameras on the inside of the house, but considering how badly our last meeting went, I doubt that’s such a good idea.
So I pour myself a vat of wine, lock myself into the bathroom, and draw a bath. Hunkering low in the bubbles, I hold onto the overfilled wine glass with shaking hands and try to pinpoint exactly when it was that I began losing my mind.
Because I ca
