My feet hit the pavement. The neighbor’s lawn. The edge of her property.
I force myself to slow down and think.
He has cameras everywhere. Every neighbor has a Ring doorbell. Her dad’s paranoia means I can’t just walk up.
I move along the side of the neighbor’s house where the shadows are thickest. Yeah, the kitchen light is on. It’s dim.
I try to look through, but I can’t see anything. Instead, I duck down and voices bleed through the walls.
His voice first. Loud. Jagged with rage.
Then hers. Quieter. Shaking but trying to stay controlled.
I can’t make out full sentences. Just fragments that punch through.
“—I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“—lying to my face—”
I move closer, press my back against the siding, and listen.
“I’ll make them leave me alone.”
Her voice.
Small.
Defeated.
Like she’s trying to shrink herself down to nothing, so he’ll stop.
My jaw locks so tight I feel my teeth grinding. My hands ball into fists.
I don’t kick the door in.
I don’t storm inside and drag him out by his throat.
Because, as much as that’s what I want to do, I’ll end up in prison.
So I wait.
Footsteps pound in the opposite direction, and a door slams hard enough for me to feel it. Then silence.
I count in my head. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
The kitchen light flicks off.
I move to the side of the house. Her window’s on the corner. I’ve stared at it enough nights to know it by heart.
I force myself through the bushes and stand at the window. It takes me a second, but I finally tap lightly.
At first, she doesn’t take the bait. I wait a few moments, and then the curtain shifts.
Her face appears behind the glass, pale and red-eyed. She looks at me, and for a second, she just stares.
Then she opens the window just a crack.
“You can’t be here.” Her voice is barely a whisper. Her eyes are wild like she can’t believe how stupid I can be. Little does she know I was two seconds from breaking in and punching her dad again.
