Nothing appeared to have changed in the apartment, but this needn’t mean nothing was hidden. As soon as I finished searching all the rooms I felt compelled to search again, though what would this achieve? If an intruder was waiting to rear up behind me in the bathroom mirror, unless it revealed its lair behind the shelves of books or produced its flattened face out of the blackness of the television screen, I would know soon enough – when it decided to amuse itself with me again or else exact a worse revenge. Nowhere in the world was safer than my apartment, which was by no means to pretend it was safe.

I sat in front of the computer to persuade myself I had a future I should work for, and succeeded in adding a few sentences but less insight. I heated up a casserole I’d made days ago, and almost dropped it when the oven door sprang open, perhaps because I’d neglected to secure it properly, unless it had been undone from within by the owner of the face I seemed to glimpse shrinking into the dark. Afterwards I sat in my chair against the wall and watched a variety of television broadcasts. The documentaries and newscasts seemed as unreal as the fiction films, every one a brittle shell of narrative that hid a lethal truth. The intrusion could reveal itself anywhere in the room, and the wall at my back felt just as unreliable as protection, but I found the prospect of going to bed more daunting still. I had no idea when I began to nod and flounder awake, nor when I remained asleep.

A change wakened me. There was more light in the room than I remembered having seen. I opened my eyes to find daylight paling the overhead bulb. I had a feeling that it wasn’t the only development, but why was I afraid to learn what else had happened? I was alone in the room, and not just in the room. As I made my awareness reach out I sensed no threat of any kind, nor the least hint of a presence.

At first I thought it was a trick, although I didn’t see how my sensitivity to the kind of trespassing I’d suffered could be blocked. If I was really no longer in danger, why did I feel more nervous than ever? Because there was only one reason why Bella would relent, and the possibility dismayed me more than staying endangered myself. I had to know, and I groped for my phone, but the call went unanswered for so long that I’d begun to wonder whose voice any recorded message might use by the time the simulated trill was interrupted. “Yes.”

Though the flatness of the word invited no response, I said “May I assume we can talk?”

“You may assume what you like.”

“Then I’m assuming I’m to be left alone.”