“Like you’re never coming back.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t really sleep when she puts me to bed. I pretend.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to watch her.”
“Like you’re never coming back.”
I dropped the shirt.
“Watch her do what?”
“She waits until she thinks I’m asleep. Then she comes in here and locks the door.”
“Have you ever seen what she does?”
Bev nodded reluctantly.
“Once. The door didn’t shut all the way.”
“Then she comes in here and locks the door.”
Her face crumpled.
“She wore your necklace.”
I said nothing.
“And she sat on your bed. And she moved your frame.”
“What frame?”
“The one of us.”
“She wore your necklace.”
I felt cold all over.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought you’d think I was making it up.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You would. You kept saying she loved me.”
That one hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I put the laundry aside.
“I believe you.”
Bev grabbed my hand.
“I’m not scared she’s going to do something to me.”
“Then what are you scared of?”
Her voice dropped.
“I believe you.”
“I’m scared she’s trying to become you.”
That night, I bought a small indoor camera, placed it on my bedroom bookshelf, and connected it to my phone.
