“Jill.” Langer. The man on the hill. All the weight of that came crashing down on me, and it was like I woke up. Finally and forever woke up. I called the house. My husband answered on the fifth ring. “Where the hell are you? It’s the middle of the night, and you just—” “Listen to me,” I whispered, as calmly as I could. “What is going on?” “There’s no time. Get out of the house. Take whatever you can gather in the next half hour. Get out and go up in the mountains or some property a friend is selling that’s remote. Don’t tell anyone. Someplace secure. And stay there. Just for a while.” “Are
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