After candle lighting that night,

I fell asleep to the sound of raindrops on the roof.

But I heard no rain when I woke up

in the middle of the night.

Instead,

I heard

a tapping.

On the window above my cubby.

It stopped after a few seconds.

Then started again.

I knew—

I just knew—

there was a man out there.

Making his way inside.

“Hope!” I tried to say.

I could barely get a sound out.

The man tapped again.

I closed my eyes and tried harder.

“Hope!”

She came then,

so fast.

She shined her flashlight all around

and saw that I was the only one awake.

“What happened?” she whispered to me.

“There’s someone out there!” I said.

“Someone’s trying to come in!”

I pointed at the window.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered,

shining her flashlight in that direction.

We couldn’t see anything in the beam of light

except my bottles of sunscreen.

Hope walked over and peered out

for a good long time.

Then she came back to me.

“It’s just a branch,” she whispered.

“Knocking against the windowpane

in the wind.

I promise—there’s no one there.”

I tried to relax.

But I couldn’t.

What if he’d just hidden behind a tree?

“I’m still scared!” I whispered.

She thought for a second.

Then she walked back over to my cubby,

picked up a bottle of sunscreen,

and brought it back to me.

It was such a weird thing to do.

Why would I possibly need sunscreen?

It was the middle of the night!

But I took the bottle from her.

“No one’s out there,”

she whispered.

“But just in case,

use this.

Spray him right in the eyes.

And call me.

I’ll take care of him. OK?”

“OK,” I said.

I set the sunscreen next to my flashlight.

Then she tiptoed back to her bed.

And

after listening carefully

and hearing no more tapping

and telling myself again and again

there’s no one there,

I finally fell back to sleep.