I stood up and knelt down in front of her, placing both of my hands on her legs. “We all have times like this. It’s okay. I’m here.” I put my arms around her shoulders and tried to hug her, but her body was stiff. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.” I leaned back and released her, studying her face. I knew what it was like to feel scared, alone, unsure of what to do next. I wished there was something else I could say, but all I could offer was my presence and clumsy platitudes.

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. Then her shoulders stiffened, and she slowly looked up.

I stood and took a quick step back at the change on her face. It was emotionless, her eyes black, all pupils.

She let the tears run down her face and drip into her lap, her mouth tight. Her eyes narrowed, suddenly dry, and her face turned to stone. She again glanced over her shoulder.

“Do you want to see something?” she said as she turned back to me.

“Um, sure. I guess.” I didn’t move for a second, not knowing whether she was messing with me. When I saw she wasn’t, I followed her as she stood up.

I clutched my phone as we walked to the corner of the yard, toward where the She Shed would go. I tripped over an exposed tree root from the locust tree. Locust trees were notoriously unstable, awful trees. They had weak branches and grew like weeds. Last year, when a microburst came through the neighborhood, it took out two of them in our yard, one of the branches falling through our garage.

Liz stopped by the fence line. It was too dark to really see anything, and I stumbled my way to the edge of the grass. I could see my house from here, and Emily’s light was still on, meaning that she had woken up and wanted someone to sleep in her bed.

“Oh! I should probably head home,” I said as I pointed my phone in the direction of Emily’s bedroom. “Seems like I have a kid awake.”

“This will only take a second,” Liz insisted. She motioned for me to come closer.

“Just for a minute.” I slipped my phone into my back pocket before I took another step forward.

As I did, I saw what Liz pointed at. She had her forefinger aimed toward the ground, at the gaping hole in the earth. The smell hit me like a brick wall, making me stop and clutch a hand to my nose. My legs locked up, my body rigid as I tried not to inhale the unholy stench.