At the back door, I check the lock, then lurch backward and drop the knife. It clatters on the tile as I rotate in a circle. It’s unlocked. I fall to my hands and knees and search for the blade. I made sure to lock it before I left to meet the girls. That horrible sense that someone is watching crawls over my skin like a rash. I grip the blade’s handle in my hot palm. “Who’s there?”

My phone rings. I jump and almost drop the knife again. I retrace my steps to the bedroom and answer.

“I just had a quick question about the party.” Jess’s perky voice slices through my fear.

“I think someone is in my house,” I whisper.

“What?”

“I was in the bath, and I heard footsteps on the baby monitor. I went to Jackson’s nursery and the door was closed, not open. I always leave it open. And the back door is unlocked, but I know I locked it before I left. I’m … I’m really scared.”

“You need to get out of your house right now and call the police, Rebecca. This is the second time something like this has happened in less than a week. Can you activate your alarm from the inside? Like a panic button?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you want me to call Officer Hot Pants?” She’s attempting to keep her voice light, but I sense panic beneath her snarky tone.

“No, no. Don’t call him. Just let me finish walking through the house with you on the phone.” I hold the knife in one hand and the phone in the other. I open and shut every door, check all the windows, locks, and even reach under the beds. Everything is secure. Back upstairs, I unlock Jackson’s door, check on him, relock the door, and collapse on my bed, drained from the unexpected adrenaline surge. “Holy shit. Am I losing it?”

“Maybe you just forgot to lock the door? I do that all the time.”

“And then I accidentally left the front door open the other day?” I think about the moved playpen too. “I don’t think so.” I replay everything in my mind, but all the logistics crash into one another until they’re a muddled mess in my brain.

“Are you okay? Seriously?”

“I don’t know.” I slow my breathing and swallow a few times.

“I still think you should call the police to be safe.”

“No, I’m not going to drag them out on two false alarms. I’ll be the girl who cried wolf.” I roll to my stomach. “It’s probably just the house. It makes all kinds of noises. Always has.”

“Maybe it’s haunted.” She hesitates. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Are you putting away your own dishes?” I joke. “I thought you had a maid.”

“Today’s her day off.”