For months after the Bakers disappeared, I would duck between the line of bushes that separated our lots and roam their house. I pocketed a ring of keys that I found in their junk drawer and skipped over the window I had initially used, coming and going as I wished. I spent afternoons in the big leather chair behind John Baker’s desk, flipping through their files. I combed bank and credit card statements, fascinated by the personal glimpse into their life. I stood in Claudia’s bathroom, before her big, wide mirror, and carefully applied her lipstick and shadows.
Just as neena is obsessed with eilkaim caa isobsessed with this how but whyyyy
