One afternoon I found her crying silently in the laundry room.

I crouched beside her carefully. “Hey. Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head immediately.

“Then why are you scared of me?”

Her lips trembled like she wanted to answer, but instead she whispered, “I’m not scared of you.”

Before I could ask anything else, Clara appeared behind me.

And Sophie instantly went quiet.

That should’ve been the moment I pushed harder for answers. Instead, I convinced myself I was overthinking things.

Until the night Clara left town.

She had a three-day medical conference in Seattle and asked if I could stay home with Sophie.

“Of course,” I told her.

Truthfully, I hoped the weekend might finally help us bond.

The first day actually went well.

We made pancakes together Saturday morning, though Sophie barely touched hers. Later we watched old animated movies in the living room while rain hammered against the windows outside.

For the first time since I’d known her, she laughed at something I said.

It caught me so off guard that I laughed too.

That evening, we built a blanket fort in the den and ate popcorn while watching cartoons. She even fell asleep leaning against my shoulder for almost twenty minutes before suddenly jerking awake like she remembered she wasn’t supposed to trust me.

That look returned immediately.

Fear.

Not of me.

Of something else.

Around 10 p.m., I tucked her into bed upstairs.

As I turned off the light, she grabbed my sleeve.

“Will you lock your bedroom door tonight?”

I smiled gently. “Why?”

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.

“Because he walks around at night.”

I felt a chill crawl up my arms.

“Who walks around?”

But Sophie immediately pulled the blanket over her face and refused to answer.

I barely slept after that.

Around 2:13 a.m., I woke to the sound of footsteps above me.

Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

At first I assumed Sophie had gotten out of bed. But these footsteps sounded too heavy for a child.

I sat up listening carefully.

Step.

Step.

Step.

The hallway outside my bedroom creaked.

Then silence.

My heart pounded as I opened the door.