2:14 a.m. in the Hallway

My mom lived alone, in a quiet house at the edge of town. <break time="0.8s" /> No pets. <break time="0.6s" /> No close neighbors. <break time="0.8s" />

The last text she ever sent me said, <break time="0.6s" /> “Someone is standing in my hallway.” <break time="1.2s" /> I didn’t see the

message until the next morning. <break time="0.8s" /> By then, I had six missed calls from her. <break time="0.6s" />

Each one exactly one minute apart. <break time="1s" /> I tried calling her back. <break time="0.6s" /> Straight to voicemail. <break time="1.0s" />

At first, I told myself she was overreacting. <break time="0.8s" /> My mom scared easily. <break time="0.6s" /> But something about

the timing felt wrong. <break time="0.8s" /> So I drove to her house before work. <break time="1s" /> Her car was still

in the driveway. <break time="0.6s" /> The lights were on inside. <break time="0.8s" /> And the front door was unlocked. <break time="1.2s" />

I called her name as I stepped inside. <break time="0.8s" /> She didn’t answer. <break time="1.0s" /> The house smelled stale. <break time="0.6s" />