Around 6 p.m., I heard a sound from the driveway. A car.

Cars never came around here, except for deliveries, and this wasn’t the day for it. From where I was I couldn’t tell if it was arriving or leaving. If Rita was leaving, I didn’t want it to be like this. I dragged myself off the couch and went out the door, down the street to the city exit door, and looked toward the main house.

As I realized what I was looking at, every happy year I had known drained out of me, becoming a puddle of dead, scummy water at my feet.

Krystal.

She didn’t see me. It was just like before, when she came during the storm. From where I was, peering through a crack in the door, there was no way she would notice me observing her, and I watched as she swung herself out of the car and knocked on the front door of the main house.

Just like she’d done the night of the storm.

I couldn’t help but try to see if she had a smirk on her face as she waited on the porch. I imagined her smirking. Bamboozling Rita with the lawyer talk, ever the proficient liar.

She knocked again.

This is it, I thought to myself. She will get back in her car and leave. Just like before. I outlined the speech I would give to Larwin afterward, how I would instruct him to get people to build a gate at the end of the lane. Or get a restraining order against Krystal. How had I neglected to do that before? It must have slipped my mind in the aftermath of the storm.

She knocked a third time. She had the look of someone about to turn around and leave, and I sucked in a slow, deep breath through my teeth, sure it was about to be over.

Then, the front door of the main house opened.

My mouth fell open. Rita, who had changed into her old clothes at some point—the outfit she had worn on the first day we met, in fact—stood in the open doorway.

Stunned, I watched as they exchanged greetings.

I watched as Rita shook Krystal’s hand.

I watched as Krystal disappeared inside the main house.

She had been invited in. Rita had invited Krystal inside.

My brain couldn’t handle it. The meaning of it. All sound faded.

After I stood still for what seemed like several minutes, my hearing came back to me. The birds were singing their last songs. The sun was setting. The dew was gathering, and the grass smelled sweet, that early springtime smell. Everything felt false.

Keeping to the side so I wouldn’t be seen, I left the city and crept around to the side of the main house. I passed each window until I came to the kitchen, where a light was on. It was a high window, so I stood on my tiptoes.

Inside the kitchen, Rita and Krystal stood together at the counter, their figures distorted by the old, wavy glass. I watched as Rita moved to the fridge and removed the ingredients for a sandwich. Confused, I wondered why Rita would be eating dinner so late, and in here, but as the minutes passed I realized she was not making it for herself.