had shaken her head and asked who would do something so nasty. The same woman who had insisted she hadn’t heard a single unusual sound during the night.
She was standing on my driveway with a paint roller in her hand, calmly destroying our property as if she had every right to be there.
For a moment, I couldn’t move.
My mind desperately searched for another explanation. Perhaps the camera was playing tricks on me. Perhaps the lighting made the woman look like Kelsie.
But then she turned toward the
