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black
dress she was wearing, put on her robe and slipped into her house
slippers before going downstairs to the bathroom. Ann turned on the
water for her bath and was sampling the temperature when she heard
a horn honking out front. She ran out to the living room window and
parted the curtains to find Amanda’s mother’s car pulled up in the
driveway. After making a gesture with her hand, Ann ran upstairs to
alert Amy that her friend had arrived.
    “ Shit!” Amy hissed as she
turned off the hairdryer. “She’s early!”
    Ann ignored the profanity—she’d almost
gotten used to it by now. “Do you want me to ask them to come
inside to wait until you’re ready?”
    “ No, I’m as ready as I’m
going to be. I hate my fucking hair!”
    Ann cringed at the sound of the “f”
word coming from her daughter’s lips. This time she wasn’t going to
excuse it. “You’d better start watching your mouth, young lady! Do
you realize how vulgar that sounds?”
    Amy glared at Ann defiantly. “Come on,
Mother! You say it all the time!”
    “ That doesn’t give you the
right to, though. Not in my house!”
    Amy held her mother’s stare and
spurted, “Oh, Mom—get a life!” She stormed out of the
room.
    Ann wanted to chase after her and give
her a good piece of her mind but stopped herself. She knew they’d
only get in a fight, and Ann wasn’t in the mood for it. When she
heard the front door creak open, she hurried down the stairs just
as Amy was halfway out the door.
    “ Come home right after the
movie, Amy!” she yelled after her.
    The door slammed shut.
    Sometimes, I’d like to crown that
little brat, Ann thought. With a long sigh, she went back to
the bathroom and closed the door.
    After her bath, Ann threw on an old
faded Ohio State sweatshirt and a pair of sweat pants before
retreating to the family room. After turning on the television, she
went over to the bar and took out an opened bottle of white wine
from the refrigerator. After pouring herself a glass, she plopped
down on the sofa.
    She sipped her wine and glanced over at
the television—yet another new sit-com was premiering on the
channel she was watching. She set the wine glass down on the coffee
table and reached for the paperback she had started reading a
couple of days ago. It was a true story about a young girl in
Omaha, Nebraska who had been abducted then murdered by a deranged
serial killer and previously convicted child molester. Deciding
that the subject matter was hardly what she felt like delving into
at the moment, Ann picked up the other three books lying on the
table and scanned the titles. She finally opted for a romance novel
that Amy had no doubt bought but never finished reading then
settled back in the sofa and turned to the first
chapter.
    Ann was halfway through the third
chapter when she thought she heard a scraping sound outside. She
shot a glance toward one of the two windows that faced the backyard
and listened for a moment but heard nothing more. Feeling her pulse
quickening, she pressed the television mute button on the remote
control and listened again. Nothing. She was just about to switch
the sound back on when she heard the noise again, this time coming
from the direction of the other window. In an instant, she sprung
up and ran over to the window to look out. The reflection of the
room lights in the glass made it difficult to see beyond it so she
cupped her hands against the windowpane to blot out the ambient
light and squinted her eyes.
    At first she couldn’t see anything
except light coming from the bathroom window, realizing now that
she had forgotten to turn it off. Both the bathroom and family room
faced the backyard and were adjacent to one another, the family
room jutting out further into the yard where it had been added on
to the rest of the house. She felt her heart thumping rapidly in
her chest as she stared out into the darkness and waited for her
eyes to adjust. From this vantage point she could see the