I climbed the stairs behind him. They creaked and groaned beneath my weight. Surely this was no phantom place. A stray nail was solid enough to snag my shoe. But why didn’t they see or hear me? I didn’t understand, but I was too fascinated not to watch. I didn’t let myself in; I stayed at the window like a cowardly peeping Tom.

Mae nodded. I got it all ready. Don’t you smell it? Lord, but it’s enough to clear out the swamp, it stinks so bad. Where’s the girls?

Out there. He waved towards the door.

They not done getting their share yet?

No, they ain’t. Where’s my little one? You didn’t let her go out alone, did you?

Mae’s eyebrows came together just a tiny bit. She’s right out back, playing with the frogs in the puddles. Once they started their croaking, there was no keeping her in here. She about drove me crazy, bouncing around calling out ‘ribbit, ribbit,’ until I sent her on out—

Avery put his hand on her cheek, and traced the curve of her face. Mae stopped talking. She touched his arm. I thought for a moment—that is, I tried to make myself believe—I thought they might kiss, and everything might be all right. Avery reached back behind her neck and firmly, but almost gently, he held her and kept her from falling backwards. She laughed and turned her back to him, thinking he meant to play.

I turned my back to the window, not wanting to see. Her frightened squeal, and her gurgling cry—I heard them, and this was enough. I heard her fall against the bed in the corner, and I heard the straw stuffing that made up the mattress crackle beneath her body as she thrashed against the fast falling knife.

And then everything was still. I waited for more, but no more came. Maybe as long as a full minute I stood there, back to the rough slat wall, panting as though it was my throat that had been slit with a rusty-edged knife. Something had changed in the swamp around me—something signaled a shift and a warning, and I braved the window’s view once more. I couldn’t see much of what I feared; Avery was facing the wall away from me, his back hunched over the bloody form on the bed. His elbow jerked furiously back and forth as he sawed off his third trophy.

I couldn’t stand it.