They Had Me Thrown Out of My Own Lake House

stung after. Good.

I wanted the work.

At 9:12 p.m. motion pinged on my phone.

A car at the gate.

I killed the flashlight and stood still in the side yard.

It was Logan’s truck.

He sat there for maybe thirty seconds, staring at the closed gate and the new sign Caleb told me to install: PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING. ENTRY BY WRITTEN PERMISSION ONLY.

Then continue reading …