Her phone alerted her again.
She sighed and opened the message.
It was a picture of her in the apartment. Taken through the balcony windows.
She stared at it.
Then the message came in.
You need to take down the Halloween decorations. That season is over.
Phil
She ran to the patio door and yanked the curtains closed. Her hands trembled and her heart hammered, her mind running in a thousand directions.
What was he doing? Was hewatchingher?
How much? How often?
Her stomach churned, and she ran to the bathroom, expecting to throw up the little food and wine in her stomach.
She splashed water on her face, and let the cool water rush over her.
It took a moment, but the fear shifted, and it turned to anger.
What was he doing?
How could he?
You can’t be doing that! We’re done. It’s over. What I do is none of your business! Not anymore!
Jenny
The anger, fueled by fear, overwhelmed her.
You don’t do anything.
I know…
Phil
She gritted her teeth. “No, you’re not doing this to me. No. NO!” She hurled her phone across the couch.
A thud made her jump, and she screamed.
Grabbed the nearest thing, a television remote, to hurl it at anyone who came in as she turned toward the sound, the balcony doors.
“You’re not?—”
Mmmrrrooowwwlll
And a soft scraping.
She exhaled a breath and went to the door. Pulling the curtains back just enough, she saw that yes, Mister Fluffikins was back on the porch, holding some kind of prize.
She unlocked the door and slid it open just enough for him to slip in.
“Already back for the night?”
