My heart was beating quite strongly in my chest, like the heart of a bird captured in a cage, the heart of the prey after being caught by the predator. I felt like that was the best way to describe what I was feeling at the moment, to explain how I was feeling. I still hadn’t allowed him to come inside—to my complete and utter shock, considering the fact that I was practically a walking corpse already, that I couldn’t get any more scared than I was. But the problem was that he hadn’t tried to come inside yet, that he hadn’t forced his way in here yet.
He was just standing on the other side of the door, waiting, waiting for me to open it for him. And the longer that I waited to do so, the angrier he seemed to get, because his voice seemed to change every time that he spoke to me, deepenin
