And Mark had already left for work for the day. He’d left a note next to the bed, saying he didn’t want to wake me and to call him later.

So I had limped around the house, telling the kids that I tripped on a crack in the driveway the previous night, while waiting for Melissa and Jess to get back to me. Emily had looked at me suspiciously when I told her the lie, even though I wore yoga pants so the injury was hidden. She had glanced down at my leg, at the exact spot where my skin was flayed. A chill ran through me.

Before I could begin to tell Melissa what had happened, the gate swung open again and Jess bounded through, wearing workout shorts and a close-fitting tank with a picture of a woman lifting a huge dumbbell over her head. Jess’s blond hair was in two French braids down her back.

“What’s going on?” she said. “Sharon is supposed to be over in a half hour to pick up Summer.”

“It’s Liz.” I straightened up, wincing again. I had texted them an hour ago: Come over as soon as you can. I need to talk to you two. “She did something last night.” I swallowed hard. “Something terrible to me.”

Jess gave a laugh. “What, did she make you go to a Nickelback concert?” She snorted at her own joke but then stopped when she saw my face. “Oh, shit. You’re not kidding.”

“Does it look like she’s kidding?” Melissa said as she gestured toward my elevated leg.

I nodded to the empty chairs, and they sat down on either side of me, stealing glances at my covered leg.

“This is going to sound wild, but Liz . . . I guess you could say, attacked me last night, but ‘attacked’ isn’t the best word.” Their eyes widened as they listened to my clumsy explanation of what had happened. Repeating it made the story sound even more ridiculous, like some fever dream. But I knew what had happened.

“And when I got home, this was on my leg, where I had felt the pain when I tried to escape the pit.” I leaned forward and gingerly lifted up the leg of my wide black yoga pants, shimmying it up my calf.

“Are you being serious?” Melissa whispered as she leaned forward. “It looks like something bit you.”

Jess didn’t say anything as she slowly brought her hands up to her cheeks, mouth open.

There was a long, pregnant pause as I looked at them and they stared down at the oozing welt on my leg. I could hear the distant sounds of Cocomelon on Netflix inside and the hum of a lawn mower down the block. It was Wednesday, scheduled landscaping and mowing day for Seneca Drive. A leaf blower started up, the white noise of the Midwest.