Only murderers knock on doors at two in the morning during a storm. The only reason she’s out of bed is because it could be an emergency. A lot of the kids from her scouting group went night hiking. They made a game out of chasing one another and “killing” each other, but they got carried away sometimes. The boys, mainly. It could be Barry’s mother, come to tell her he’s jumped into yet another barbed fence and ripped the skin right off of his other shin. So she turns on the landing light and steps warily down the stairs, tugging her sweatpants over her hips as she goes. “Who is it, then?” Zelda calls out, opening the first door and flicking on the porch light. Maybe their car has broken down, or they are lost, or it really is a murderer. No one would know it, out here in the countryside!