She was making it for Krystal.

To my further surprise, Krystal took the sandwich and ate it with gusto. It was gone within minutes, even the crusts.

And Rita. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Krystal became more animated the longer Rita talked. They laughed together.

I could not believe what I was seeing. I wanted to peel away the glass to see it more clearly, to make sure it was real. They behaved like real people doing real things. Rita took away Krystal’s plate when she was finished and rinsed it off in the sink, still talking.

Krystal giggled again.

Shaking, I fell back onto my heels and braced myself against the wall. I was breathing hard.

Not knowing where else to go, I walked back into the city. I went straight to the Ropers’ apartment and locked the door behind me. I drew the curtains.

My mind was buzzing; I couldn’t think. Outside, full dark was descending.

I didn’t have to wait long. Soon there was a knock. Someone tried the knob. Then I heard voices, and a key was in the lock. Panicked, I wondered why I had never installed a dead bolt, but remembered that that would not have been accurate to the Ropers’ apartment.

For the first time, I cursed my own project.

At the last moment, I threw myself against the door, holding it shut.

It was a vain attempt. Rita was bigger and stronger.

“No!” I yelled. “I won’t let you in.” But it was too late, the door was already opening.

Rita stood before me. Krystal stood right behind her.

The skeleton I had left screeching in the front yard of Geannie’s house was gone. In the past six years she had plumped out, and it looked good on her. She looked younger. I could almost remember this Krystal fondly.

Then she opened her mouth and sound came out.

The sound was: “Bonnie?”

I felt dizzy, my body weakening.

“Bonnie?” she repeated. “I’m sorry.”

She stepped toward me, raising her arms, her palms up. As if to hug me.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “Get out of here.” My voice was shaky, faint. I wanted to clear my throat.

Now Rita stepped toward me. “Come on now, Stanley,” she said. “It’s Helen, remember? It’s okay.” I glared at her, thinking she was mocking me, but her voice was sweet, cajoling, and she looked at me kindly. Somehow that made everything worse.

I stared at her, her camouflage and boots. My face felt frozen in a scowl. How dare she step foot in this apartment dressed like that.

She saw me looking. “Oh, the clothes, I was going to do some maintenance work and—”

I cut her off. “I don’t want you here. Either of you. I don’t!” Stumbling backward, away from these two strangers, I turned and ran into the kitchen, seeking an exit. Due to fire codes there was a back door in the kitchen, god bless fire codes, and I slammed out of it, grateful for the fresh air. My knees felt a little stronger. I started walking. I went around the back of the building and waited, plotting my next hiding place in case they came after me.