Three days after moving into our dream home, our neighbors called the authorities over our kids playing—six months later, my son was afraid to laugh in his own backyard

made me pause.

I wanted to believe him.

A prickle across the back of my neck.

I turned my head slowly toward the fence.

She was there.

The woman from next door, standing perfectly still behind the wooden slats.

She wasn’t gardening.

She was just watching my children, her face blank and unreadable.

A prickle across the back of my neck.

“Hi there!”

My voice came continue reading …