In truth, night found Marah sitting only a few hundred feet from Mort's front yard, by the side of the road, warily watching his front door for signs of him. The downstairs light was still on. God, wasn't he going to sleep? It had to be close to 3am by now. They'd had no trouble sleeping when they were together… in fact, there was a time when they went to bed progressively earlier every night, so that eventually they were settling into another night in each others' arms while the last shades of the sunset were still touching the sky.

Maybe he was already asleep. Maybe he wasn't even there. She couldn't swear she'd seen the downstairs light come on at all—it might have been on continuously since this morning, for all she knew.

Maybe she should…

But she couldn't fathom of going into that house while he was awake. She could never look into his eyes again. Seeing the eyes that she'd loved so much look upon her with nothing but insane hatred… it had been more than she could bear. It would tear at her insides forever.

She sat there, paralyzed. Maybe he was sleeping with the lights on. Maybe he was still lying in the yard.

Maybe he was dead.

The thought struck her like a thousand volts going through her body. If he was, no one would know. No one would find out for days. Weeks. She had to find out.

She breathed in deep. Shook her feet a little. Dug her fingernails deep into her palms. She wasn't paralyzed; she could move. She would just go check around the back, to see if he was still lying there. If he was, she'd call the police. If not, she'd either return to her post and wait some more, or just possibly, muster up the courage to peek in a window. Take one step at a time. Just go check the back.

She stood up, and started moving her feet.

The cornstalks stood tall and stiff like ghost soldiers in the moonlight. It would have frightened her, had she not been convinced that what she'd seen in broad daylight earlier that day was worse than anything she could see again.

There was no sound except a very slight breeze. Very cautiously, Marah picked her way through it to the backyard and peered into the space where she'd seen him last. There were signs of a great struggle, but he was no longer there.

Sudden panic gripped her. If he wasn't there, he could be anywhere. He could be behind her right then. She whirled around. Nothing but corn. She whirled around again, and still saw nothing. Then she began running blindly, back the way she'd come, convinced that he was on her heels until she'd gotten out of the field and could see clearly in every direction. In the front yard again, she dropped to her knees, breathing hard.

Mort's half-alert ears picked up a rustling on the side of the house.

"What—"

He tried to raise himself onto an elbow, but dropped back down again. Most likely it was the police. That would make sense. Marah was a smart girl, she would have called them after she got away. He leaned his head back. Any minute now, the sirens and lights would start, and the voice on the loudspeaker, "We've got the place surrounded. Come out with your hands over your head…" He tried to remember the scenes on television, and what was supposed to happen next. The thing was, on TV the person always attempted some stupid form of escape. And he wasn't going to. He was just going to lie there and let them take him.

But the rustling kept up, and became distinct footsteps. Not very stealthy police… but were they police? He could only make out one set of feet, and they were all-out running. Why would they be running?

With an almighty effort, he sat up, then heaved himself onto his feet. He felt unsteady for a moment as the blood rushed from his head, and the world was tinged teal and orange. Then it passed. The outside was a dark smudge through the window. He listened, but heard nothing.

Marah had caught her breath, and was eyeing the window. The curtains were drawn, and she could look in if she got a little closer. She had come this far. And she needed money so she could go find some convenient shit hotel in which to cry her eyes, heart, and soul out.

She got to her feet and took a step closer to the window. The single lamp in the room didn't illuminate much, but it looked like the couch was empty. Stepping over a large ornamental rock, she closed the distance to the window pane and peered through it. She could see no one, and no sign that anyone had been in since the morning.

And then, suddenly Mort was before her, inches from her face.