I drag the chair from the lounge into the bedroom. I climb up and scan the ceiling, but there are no holes here. It’s an unbroken canvas of white except for the smoke alarm. I bend my head all the way back, looking up at it. I move the chair closer, climb up and look right into it. Another hole the same size. It’s right where the emergency light should be. It’s perfect; you would never notice it unless you were searching for it. I press the button to test the alarm but it doesn’t make a sound. Stretching on my toes, I reach up and twist the alarm from the ceiling. It comes away easily. The plastic mount connected to the roof has another tiny hole through to the ceiling. I’m holding my breath. At the lake house, the police found the cameras hidden in impossibly small crevices. Seven in total. How many cameras were here in this apartment? My skin itches, I feel the eyes on me now, like hands touching me, pinching and prodding. Then a sound.

I freeze. Three hard taps at the door.

I can’t move. Someone is here, I think. Someone was still watching. My breathing is quick and laboured. I climb down from the chair, search the room for a weapon, or an escape. I could go out the courtyard, try to climb the fence.

There is another knock at the door. I’m electric, waiting for some heavy blow. I move silently. If I ignore them maybe they will go away. But what if they don’t? It’s too early in the morning for visitors, but why knock at all? If they mean me harm, why not just burst through the door? A dark thought enters my mind like a piece of glass, then shatters and spreads through me: what if it’s the second man?

My sneakers make a small squelching sound when I move across the polished kitchen floor towards the door. I lean in close to peer out through the peephole, my heart slamming now. The sun is beginning to rise, but it’s still dark out. Where did they go? Who was it? Someone must know I am here, they must have been following me. I can’t just wait it out, but then again I can’t go into the darkness alone.

Squeezing my eyes closed I’m back in the lake house with that man, he’s hovering over me, taunting me. Then I’m holding the gun, it’s exploding in my hand, throwing me back. The trigger was firm, then it was water and I flew, sprawling. I’m there, seeing it all as if it’s happening to me again.

I survived. I got through that; this is nothing. Inhale, exhale.