It’s funny because it’s true. Women hit on him all the time, but I’ve always trusted him. I don’t know why Suzette manages to push my buttons the way she does. Especially since she’s married, so it’s not like she expects him to run off with her.

“I am sorry,” he says. “You forgive me?”

I don’t answer right away, so he comes closer to me and then kisses me with his minty fresh breath. Predictably, the last residues of my anger melt away. I’m terrible at staying mad at him.

“Mom! Dad!” a voice shouts through the door. “Little Kiwi is molting! You gotta see it! Come quick!”

There is literally nothing that kills romance quicker than being told that a praying mantis is molting in your house. Enzo and I exchange looks.

“Later, Nico!” Enzo calls out. “I am… talking to your mom. We are having… important conversation. I will see later, okay?”

But Nico is not to be put off. “When?” he calls through the door.

Enzo sighs, recognizing the potential for sexy time is over. “Just a minute.” He winks at me. “You want to see the molting?”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“But…” He glances at the bedroom door, then back at me. “We are good?”

I only hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“From now on,” he says, “I will tell you when I go over to Suzette’s house. I give you my promise.”

“You don’t have to,” I say quickly. “I trust you.”

And I do. I trust him completely.

But I don’t trust Suzette.

THIRTEEN

My eyes fly open in the middle of the night.

It’s that scraping sound again.

I haven’t heard it in a few nights. I had hoped the house had finished “settling” or whatever it was that was making such a terrible noise, but there it is, as loud as ever.

I roll my head to look over at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It’s two o’clock in the morning. Why is there a scraping sound inside our house at two o’clock in the freaking morning?

I hold my breath, listening as hard as I can.

I don’t think it’s an animal. I don’t think we have rats scampering around behind the walls. I mean, I hope we don’t. It almost sounds like…

It sounds like somebody is trapped and trying to get out.

Janice’s words still haunt me. It must be something on the inside. There’s something wrong with this house. Inside this house. Something that scared off every other person who came to see it.

I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s driving me out of my mind.

Enzo is lying sound asleep beside me. The sound wasn’t enough to wake him. Although to be fair, I could be playing the tuba right next to him, and he would sleep right through it.

If I wake him up, he is not going to be happy. He already told me he’s got an early job in the morning that’s a forty-minute drive away. But on the other hand, he acts like this sound is something I’m making up. I’m the only one who seems to hear it.

Finally, I crawl out of bed. I’m certainly not going to be able to sleep with that scraping going on. May as well investigate.

The hallway outside the bedroom is dark. I debate if I should turn on the light, my fingers lingering over the switch. I don’t want to wake up everyone in the house, but I also don’t want to fall down the stairs. As much as I love all the space in this house, I feel a jab of nostalgia for the small apartment in the Bronx where I could pretty much see everything going on if I did a three-sixty turn. There are so many nooks and crannies in this house.

So many places for someone to hide.

My eyes have adjusted to the dark, so I decide to leave the lights out. I carefully feel my way down the hallway to the stairwell. The noise is coming from downstairs. I’m sure of it.

“Hello?” I call down the stairs.

No answer. Of course.

I look back in the direction of the master bedroom. Okay, there’s a scraping noise on the first floor of our house at two in the morning that sounds like it could be created by a human. Am I really going to investigate this on my own? Even though it will make him cranky, wouldn’t it be smarter to wake up Enzo so he could go with me?

But I’ve mentioned the scraping sound to him before. He has repeatedly claimed he doesn’t hear it and tells me I’m being silly. He’s just going to claim that it’s the house settling again, then roll over and go back to sleep. And besides, I don’t need a man just to investigate the first floor of my own house. I’ll be fine.

Anyway, he’s within screaming distance.

I grab the banister of the stairwell. For a second, the scraping sound grows louder—loud enough to send a creepy-crawly sensation down my spine. It’s like whatever is making that sound is moving toward me.

Nope, that’s it. I’m turning back. Enzo needs to wake up. If he doesn’t hear this sound, then he needs a hearing test.

Except before I can turn around and go back to the bedroom…

It stops.

I stand there, waiting for it to start again. But it doesn’t. The house has gone completely silent.

I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. I’m glad the awful sound has ceased, but now that the noise is gone, it will be impossible to locate it.

I walk downstairs anyway. I take the stairs slowly, descending till I get to the first floor. The first floor of our house seems incredibly still. I squint at the outline of our furniture, cloaked in shadows. My gaze darts from corner to corner, searching for the source of that sound.

Finally, I reach out and flick on the light switch.

There’s no one here. The first floor is completely empty. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. And yet…

There was a noise. There was a noise coming from the first floor of this house. I did not imagine it. And as soon as I started down the stairs, the noise stopped. Is it possible whoever made that noise heard me coming and went silent?

No, I’m being ridiculous. Like Enzo said, it’s probably just the house settling. Whatever that means.

FOURTEEN

“Mom.”

I am stirring a pot of tomato sauce, and I’ve got eggplant browning in a pan. Guess what I’m making? Pasta alla Norma. I looked up half a dozen recipes online and chose the one that got the best reviews. Then I took a shopping trip to purchase all the ingredients. And I went to the good supermarket—the one on the other side of town. I am working hard on this dish. If it doesn’t make Enzo shed at least a single tear, I’m going to be seriously disappointed.