The thought of a stranger watching my children from the shadows made my stomach churn.

I walked down the dark hallway to the living room and checked the lock on the side window.

It was secure.

I checked the back door leading to the small patio.

Locked.

I went back upstairs, my steps quiet so as not to wake the children.

I pulled a chair from the hallway into their bedroom and sat down near the door.

I kept the room dark, letting my eyes adjust to the shadows.

My phone sat in my lap, its screen dark.

I watched the rise and fall of Ethan’s chest.

I watched Lily turn over, murmuring something in her sleep before settling again.

Hours passed in the dark.

The wind outside began to die down, replaced by the steady dripping of condensation from the eaves.

My eyelids grew heavy, but I forced myself to stay awake, listening to every creak of the old house.

At 4:00 AM, my phone screen suddenly lit up, casting a harsh blue glow onto my face.

It was a text message from an unsaved number.