I could hear a buzz of strange voices out in the hallway, and when I opened my door, a small crew of workers with drills and walkie-talkies in hand were wandering around the house. Once dressed, I strategically dodged them and found Mom and Dad in the kitchen, eating breakfast. They both looked up when I walked in, their faces etched with concern. Even with reassurance that I was okay, Mom kept fretting over me, apologizing for what happened last night, as if she’d caused the whole fiasco. I changed the subject and asked Dad what was going on. He started explaining the security system being installed. Mom finally seemed to relax as Dad went on and on about codes, beeps, windows and doors. But I had stopped listening, mentally moving on to the Peeping Tom’s face—and the fact that Dad had chased him for me. I never expected that.“Claire, why don’t you eat something?” Mom asked, interrupting my thoughts and Dad’s long-winded dissertation on how the alarm system was going to make us safer.
