She stepped aside immediately.
“Of course.
You don’t need a reason.”
Later, at her tiny kitchen table, I told her everything.
“The guy on the bench?” she said. “And he knew your name and that you have a sister?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s creepy,” she said. “You should call the cops.”
“And say what?” I asked.
“‘A man with a newspaper knows basic facts and told me to sleep at your place’?”
She didn’t laugh.
“Text your neighbor,” she said. “At least make sure your house looks normal.”
I did.
My neighbor replied:
Looks fine. No lights, no cars.
Want me to check the door?
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