Dad walked around the patio again. This time, I only had time to shut off the lights. Hearing the wet plop of his footsteps again for the seventh night in a row just might send me into insanity. He peered into the window wearing that same expression he wore the other nights -- that loving, proud expression a father can give his daughter. I crouched down lower behind the couch. I hoped he didn't see me.

I saw him take a shovel and start back to where he came from. Quickly, I got on my shoes and the rifle I bought on the fourth night. Quietly, I stepped out to the patio. My mind was still in a rush. I still couldn't...