I said, and hung up. I peered at the note and realized it had been typed on an old-school typewriter rather than printed out from a computer. I looked at the letters closely and realized that all the Ts were more faded than the other letters, as though that key on the typewriter didn’t work quite so well. I looked up and down the hallway and didn’t see or hear a soul. Suddenly my phone rang, and I jumped. “Hello? Who is this? What do you want?” “Nancy? It’s me, Ned. You said you’d call back in a minute—what happened?” He sounded panic-stricken. “Ned! I’m sorry—but I think I will take you up on your offer. Can you come to Avondale first thing tomorrow?” I said. “Of course I’ll come. But are you all right tonight?” Ned asked. I assured him I would lock my door, not open it for anyone, and meet him at the Avondale Diner at eight a.m. We said good night and I got into bed, still tired and now a bit scared. Not surprisingly, I had trouble falling asleep. A million thoughts filled my head.
