Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

Elsie’s Warning

That evening, Clara noticed Elsie wouldn’t cross the threshold. She sat on the porch, twisting the hem of her shirt, looking past her mother’s shoulder. “Inside,” Clara urged, holding the door open. Elsie shook her head. Tom tried to get her inside. She flinched. Only when Clara picked her up and whispered did she agree to enter.

But once inside, she pointed to the far wall of the living room and said, softly, “He’s not done.” Clara crouched down, brushing hair from Elsie’s forehead. “Who, baby?” Elsie blinked slowly and pressed her lips together. She playfully squealed one word: “Watcher.”

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