I thought my 4-year-old had an imaginary friend. When he drew a picture of “Mr. Smiles” holding a knife, I laughed. But when I saw the red stains on our neighbor’s carpet, I realized the “monster” wasn’t imaginary—he was living next door. And he knew we were watching.
PART 1 Chapter 1: The Window at Ground Level It started on a Tuesday. I remember because Tuesday is trash day in our subdivision, and the rhythmic thud-clatter of the plastic bins being hauled to the curb usually wakes me up before my alarm. We live in a quiet cul-de-sac in Whispering Pines, Oregon. It’s…