“You can"t get away,” Tripper said, teasing from out in the hallway.
Sara"s legs felt like logs. “Stop right there!” she said, putting up her hand.
Tripper moved slowly toward her, gurgling, his hands in the air making clutching motions. He didn"t pounce. Just took one slow step at a time, like a child imitating a movie monster. She backed up slowly. He was in the bathroom now, making ominous threatening sounds deep in his throat. “I gotcha!” he said, low and menacing.
Sara backed against the closed dressing room door. She opened it and stood, enticing him further. Tripper kept coming. When he was as close as she could allow, she swiftly pulled the door closed behind her. He mumbled loudly as if confused, tried the knob, grunted, and tried again. Sara ran out of the bedroom. Just as she
