POV: Clara

He knocked a little after midnight.

Clara jerked upright on the couch, her laptop slipping off her knees and thunking against the floor. The screen went dark. The only illumination now was from a lone lamp in the corner, shadows long and sharp across the walls. She swallowed. That was the thing about it—the knock. No one knocked at this time of night. Not here.

She paused, frozen in place. Waiting for him to stop. He didn’t.

Knock, knock. Hard and ...