THERE WAS A MAN LURKING IN MY BACKYARD. I NEVER SAW him, but I knew he was out there, pacing back and forth, setting off the motion sensor lights. At first I told myself it was just a coyote, but the lights kept flashing. Once a coyote was startled it ran off and didn’t come back. Something, someone, was pacing back and forth. I knew it was a man. Women didn’t lurk in backyards. I suppose I did come close to lurking in the Campaneles’ backyard once, but not like this. Not menacing and persistent. It was just after midnight and I was sitting on the couch. The blinds were drawn, and the lights were off, so he couldn’t see in. I wanted to go to the window and peek out, but I was terrified he would see me. He would see that I was a woman alone. Maybe he already knew that. Maybe he had been casing the house for some time, watching my comings and goings. I had to press my eyelids with my index fingers to stop them from twitching.

I don’t think anyone who isn’t a woman living on her own can fully appreciate the amount of time we spend imagining and fearing this exact scenario. The number of times we feel a presence behind us as we turn off the lights. Or catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of our eye, and whip around to find an empty room. Or the hours we’ll spend lying in bed, listening to steps on the staircase, or the electric garage door opening, or the doorbell ringing so clear in the night that it startles us awake. Though of course there’s never anyone at the door. The garage is always closed. There’s no one else in the house, on the staircase, or hiding in the next room.

But this was different. The lights were on in the yard. There was someone out there moving. Just then I saw a flicker of shadow on the curtain. Stay quiet. What did he want? Why didn’t he just break in? I thought about grabbing a knife from the kitchen but no, I could easily be overpowered and have it used against me. It occurred to me that it might be Kyle, but why wouldn’t he just ring the doorbell? For a second I wondered if it might be Paul trying to spy on me. No, that was crazy. I was holding my phone in my hand, but I didn’t know who to call. I could call the police. But I couldn’t just call the police because my motion sensor lights were flashing; surely I had to actually see someone, some credible threat.

I tried calling Kyle but it went straight to voicemail again. Then I called Jo. She picked up on the third ring.

Claire?