She read on.
You don’t know me. But I’ve been watching the way you leave your back door unlocked. The way you hum off-key when you water the geraniums. The way you say “dear” to the stray cat even though you pretend you haven’t named it. dana vespoli dear
A floorboard creaked in the hallway. Dana didn’t move. She thought of the stray cat— Dear, she called him —who had stopped showing up three days ago. She thought of the way the fog had been pressing against her windows earlier than usual, thick as cotton. She read on