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She stepped aside immediately.
“Of course.
Later, at her tiny kitchen table, I told her everything.
“The guy on the bench?” she said. “And he knew your name and that you have a sister?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s creepy,” she said. “You should call the cops.”
“And say what?” I asked.
“‘A man with a newspaper knows basic facts and told me to sleep at your place’?”
She didn’t laugh.
“Text your neighbor,” she said. “At least make sure your house looks normal.”
My neighbor replied:
Looks fine. No lights, no cars.
Want me to check the door?
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