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watch as Samantha retrieves her cell, looks at the screen, carefully reads my name before placing it on the side table, happily resuming her packing.

ā€œWhat the actual fuck, Samantha?ā€

Her behavior is growing more irritating, however, I know this isnā€™t her. Somethingā€™s going on where she doesnā€™t feel comfortable with confiding in me.

But what could have her so distant that she canā€™t even speak to her own sister?

I quickly type a message.

Me: Are you ignoring me on purpose?

 

 Again, she picks up the cell, reads the message and places it back on the table without replying. It takes all the strength I have not to stand up and yell through the window, ā€˜Answer your fucking phone,ā€™ because her behavior is causing me to now be doing things Iā€™m not proud of, like becoming a peeping Tom.

My skin prickles with a sense of being watched. Scanning down the dark front yard, Iā€™d be lucky to seen by neighbors from across the road, yet without a doubt, thereā€™s a pair of eyes watching my every move. I decide thereā€™s nothing I can do about it if I canā€™t see them, and Iā€™m unlikely to blow my cover just to catch them out.

Samantha pulls her top up and over her head and disappears down the hall. Knowing sheā€™s heading for the shower, I lean against the fence, contemplating my next move. I canā€™t likely wait for her to leave without already being in my car. I need to be prepared and leave unseen, ready to pull out as she drives past.

Thereā€™s a strange rustle behind me, followed by a snuffling-type snort. Shifting to the right, I turn and look through a gap in the fence. Nothing unusual stands out. There are still no lights on in the neighborā€™s residence, but Iā€™m shaken when a giant black-and-brown snout pokes through the gap of a dislodged panel. The beast of a dog has its teeth bared, saliva drooling in thick curtains.

ā€œShit!ā€ I scoot away quickly as it disappears for a heartbeat and then comes back at full force, now able to squeeze up to its ears through the gap. It looks wonky, skewed on a strange angle, one large judgmental eye staring curiously up at me. ā€œWhat are you looking at? Go back to your own side, you nosey mutt,ā€ I hiss, wishing it would allow me to resume my stalking in peace. Surprisingly, the beast listens, the panel grinding back in place with a clunk. When my heart rate settles, and the dog seems to have disappeared somewhere within its own yard, I resume my stakeout peering through the window.

Thereā€™s still no sign of Samantha.

Lost in thought, I wonder what this all means.

Why Sam feels the need to be so secretive.

Why my husbandā€™s become a distant ghost in our relationship.

Are the two connected in some way?

How could the two people I love the most become strangers?

My thoughts are brutally interrupted when Iā€™m catapulted forward in fear, colliding with the weatherboard house. The satanic dog behind the fence releases a booming bark that seems to echo throughout the entire, otherwise peaceful neighborhood. An unrelenting bark that screams ā€˜intruder!ā€™ With my heart painfully pounding against my ribcage, I consider fleeing.

ā€œSshh!ā€ I whisper harshly. ā€œShut up.ā€

The beast is unrelenting and goes between noisy ruckus to trying to squeeze its snarling face back through the fence.

ā€œFor fuckā€™s sakeā€¦ā€ I curse while searching through my handbag. If I donā€™t want the police called on my sorry, snooping ass, I need to make nice with the beast. I struggle seeing the contents of my bag, but once my fingers feel the metallic wrapper, I know Iā€™m in luck. Unwrapping a peanut butter protein bar, I toss it toward the beast, whose large eye looks from it to me before practically inhaling the treat. The bribe works and the beast seems somewhat sold on the idea of letting me stay.

ā€œWhat?ā€ I ask quietly, when it remains wedged in the fence. While now quiet, the beastā€™s stare is unwavering, and I detect a threat his tantrum will resume any second if I donā€™t do something. ā€œFine,ā€ I concede, digging through my bag once more. ā€œThis is all I have left.ā€ Unwrapping a second peanut butter protein bar, I swear I see the beast smiling seconds before I toss it over.

Again, he inhales it, and for a fleeting moment I worry that by not chewing its food, the mutt will become constipated. Appeased and happy, the beast remains wedged in the fence but seems to lie down.

ā€œYou just gonna stay there and watch like a creeper, too?ā€ He glances up at me before sighing, content in remaining where he is. ā€œFine, but we have a deal, so I hope youā€™re a dog of your word.ā€

I resume my spot against the fence, the beastā€™s face happily by my side as I watch for Samantha.

ā€œWhatā€™s going on, Beast?ā€ I ask, knowing full well I must be losing the plot. ā€œWhatā€™s she up to?ā€

Another twenty minutes pass before Sam finally re-enters the living room, heels in hand. Sheā€™s wearing a striking deep-red mini dress with thick strands of jewels around her neck. Her hair is elegantly curled and makeup applied to perfection.

ā€œThatā€™s what she wears to work?ā€ I ask Beast, surprised at how amazing my sister looks for a night of work. When she sits on the sofa to put on her heels, itā€™s my cue to leave. ā€œItā€™s show time,ā€ I say to my new four-legged accomplice in a goodbye. I bribed him with peanut butter protein bars to keep his tattle-tale mouth shut, and now that Iā€™m leaving, he looks at me as if Iā€™m ripping out his poor heart.

Patting his nose quickly, I stick to the shadows like a well-trained ninja and run to the car. Iā€™m already inside when I see Samantha on

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