It sounded as if I had woken her up. I apologized for calling so late.

What’s wrong, love? she asked.

I explained the situation, while trying to hide the panic in my voice. She told me that I needed to find a way to look out the window to assess the situation.

I can’t. Not from the living room.

What about an upstairs bedroom?

What if he sees me?

Claire, he won’t see you peeking from a second-floor window.

I told her that if I got up off the couch, he might notice my shadow moving behind the curtains. You said the lights are off, yes?

Yes.

Then there’re no shadows. Just go upstairs. You can do this.

Just then, the backyard motion sensor lights turned off, and everything fell into darkness. I stood up and crossed the living room to the hallway, with Jo still pressed to my ear. I could hear her breathing. Just knowing that she was there, listening, helped. I whispered an apology to her again, and she told me not to be silly.

You always know I’m here. At any hour.

I was halfway down the hall to the staircase when, out the window behind me, the backyard lights flashed on again. I told Jo and she said to stay calm and keep going. I reached the staircase, and began ascending into the black of the second floor. Through muscle memory, I reached Ashley’s bedroom and pushed open the door. At the far side of her room, the venetian blinds of the window were open, casting slanting bars of light across her bed. I crossed the room, and with my shoulder against the wall, I turned and peered down, out of the corner of the window, into the backyard. The backyard was lit starkly by the motion sensor lights above the patio door. I watched for five, ten seconds—and saw nothing. No movement. There was no one there.

Nothing at all? Jo asked.

Nothing.

And the lights are still on?

Yup.

Somehow, this unnerved me more. If I could see a body pacing, if I could see an animal, or a teenager, or a man with a gun, then at least I could have attributed my fear. There was nothing more unsettling than absence. Jo suggested that perhaps the lights had malfunctioned, but in my heart I knew that wasn’t the case. I knew that there was something out there, and that the lights sensed something that I could not. Jo told me to keep looking, and I did, for another ten whole seconds, but then the lights flicked off. In the ensuing darkness, the membrane between outside and inside collapsed. Whatever was stalking my house could suddenly be anywhere, could be downstairs, could be in the closet of the bedroom. Jo told me to focus on my breath, but I couldn’t get a hold of it.

Claire, do you want me to drive over?