Now he's at it again; I hear him banging a closet door shut, rustling through papers on a chest in the front hall and thumping upstairs.

I hear him banging a closet door shut, rustling through papers on a chest in the front hall and thumping upstairs.

In the house on Paper Street, if the phone rang only once and you picked it up and the line was dead, you knew it was someone trying to reach Marla.