“I should go,” said Julia, abruptly.

I glanced at the clock, and sat up sharply. “Ohmigod, it’s already seven?”

“Seven?” Alice echoed, eyes widening. “It’s nearly curfew!” Leaning towards the window, she threw open the curtains.

In only a short while, it would be nearly pitch black outside, as the streetlights were sparse and flickered dimly, since the government constantly failed to fix them. All the residents of Lakeview—which, ironically, had no lake—had trained to learn the patterns of the light. There was a curfew for the entire town; no one was allowed outside past nine—not that anyone would dare to, anyways—and there were daily Night Watch patrols. Everyone knew the story of the night murderer.

Alice hurriedly closed the curtains. “I’m not walking through that,” she said. “Can I text my mom?”

I tossed her my phone, and she caught it, unlocking it and calling her mom. “Mom? It’s Alice. I can’t come home. It’s late…sorry…yeah. Love you.” She hung up, and handed me my phone.

Just then, my mom entered. “Are you girls staying?” she asked, leaning in the doorway of the living room.

“Yup,” Alice chirped.

“Me too,” added Julia, typing furiously.

My mom nodded, and spotted the movie on the screen.

“Girls!” she reprimanded, sharply. “No horror movies in the evening! You know the rules!”

“But—”

“No,” she said, cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear it. You know the rules, and yet you still broke them.” She tutted disapprovingly.

“Sorry,” Alice and Julia said together, hanging their heads with shame.

“Where’s Dylan?” I asked, skirting an apology.

“Your brother? Tonight’s his first Night Watch,” she said, finally cracking a smile. “Congratulate him when he gets back tomorrow. I’m sure he’s glad to serve the community.”

“Glad,” I echoed sarcastically, snorting. We all knew that he was terrified of the night. “Right. When he’s traumatized for life, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

My mom’s smile dropped. “He won’t be,” she snapped. “Have a little positivity.” She swept out of the room, clearly proud to have had the last word.

Suddenly, I realized that Alice and Julia had been awkwardly watching the exchange, unsure of what to do.

“You can stay in the guest room,” I said curtly. Every house in Lakeview had one for those who stayed past curfew. Then, feeling ashamed at my rudeness, I tacked on the customary Lakeview farewell. “Stay safe.”

“Stay safe,” they echoed.

No one saw the man cloaked in shadow outside, silent and unmoving, watching through a gap in the curtains.

The next morning, I stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, half-asleep. Everyone else was already up and busy, cooking and setting the table. We all exchanged “good morning”s, and I poured milk into glasses. We sat down at the table, and began to eat in silence for a few minutes, the clinking of cutlery on dishes especially loud.

Then, Julia announced, “I’m leaving at nine today, if that’s alright. My mom doesn’t want me to leave until it’s bright outside.” She looked around, as though daring someone to disagree.

“Same with me,” Alice agreed, cheerful as always.

“Okay,” I said.

We fell back into our comfortable silence, until the doorbell shattered it.

“Coming,” called my mom, rising from her chair and untying her apron with nimble hands. She tossed it onto the couch as she passed, and opened the door, smiling politely.

On the other side of the door was the infamous grim-faced man. He reported the night's murders.

Why is he here? I wondered. Then, ridiculously, my mind went, What a depressing job of ruining lives.

“Sincerest apologies from the Night Watch Society,” he said stonily. “Dylan Alexander Han has been murdered.” He droned on about the details of the murder, but I had stopped listening.

Julia gasped while Alice paled, and they both looked at me. The news didn’t register with me for a few seconds. I blinked a few times, then realized, My brother is dead—murdered. I'll never see him again, never see him smile again, never see him cry again… Tears began welling up and spilling over. My mom stood in the doorway, her smile frozen on her face. Then she broke down, a mess of sobs and wails, a mother who has just lost a child.

The rest of the week was almost peaceful. My mom and I wandered aimlessly at home like ghosts, pale and silent, not eating, sleeping restlessly. But then something broke my trance, and I left the house. I explained my plan to my friends—I wanted to find the head of the Night Watch Society, Mr. Miller. I wanted to demand answers, like why nobody had caught the night murderer, or why my brother was murdered if the Watch was supposed to travel in pairs. Alice and Julia insisted that the Society would have found the night murderer if they could, and that they didn’t want anyone to die. Nevertheless, I was tired of the way things were, and knew something had to change.

We entered the Night Watch Society Headquarters.

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the receptionist, pleasantly.

“No,” I said flatly.

She sighed heavily, dropping her pleasant facade. “Please wait in the waiting room. Mr. Miller will be with you in an hour or so.” She turned away.

I did not see why he needed an hour, when we were the only ones there.

After about forty-five minutes of waiting, anger began to rise inside of me, and I didn’t bother to tamp it down. Then the anger turned to rage, and rage to fury. Why should we wait for him? After all, it was my brother who had been murdered, my life that had been torn apart. And what was he doing over in his big, safe room? Probably relaxing, not doing his job—and that was why people were out there, trying to do good, and paying with their lives for our—no, his—protection.

I leapt to my feet. Well, I’ll catch him slacking. Then he has to do his job, and lives will finally be saved.

I sprinted past the receptionist. Alice and Julia jumped up out of their chairs. “What are you doing?” yelped Alice, bewildered.

“Stop!” cried the receptionist. “He hasn’t called you in yet!”

I ignored her and kept running, bursting through the doors that read Mr. Miller on a golden plaque. I stopped, and heard Alice and Julia stumble to a stop behind me.

What I saw drained my face of color, for the second time in a week. There was a handgun lying on the desk, and, slumped in the corner of the far wall, was my brother, a dark spot of crimson soaking his shirt. I opened my mouth and closed it again, speechless. In my peripheral vision, I saw my friends gawking. I could only imagine how I looked at that moment. Then, to my shock and relief, Dylan’s eyes opened weakly.

Barely audible, he rasped, “Miller…unexpected…night murderer…” His eyes drifted shut.

His condition snapped me out of my trance, and I sprinted over to him, inhaling sharply. “If you die,” I whispered fiercely, “I’ll never forgive you.” The slightest upturn at the corner of his lip made me exhale with relief.

Julia had the most experience in emergency medical assistance, having learned it for her lifeguard course, so she tended to Dylan while Alice phoned 911. Trying to keep him conscious as long as I could, I talked constantly.

Faintly, footsteps sounded in the hall. I leapt to my feet, lunging towards the desk and snatching the gun off of it. I pointed it at the door just as Mr. Miller, a frail, wizened old man, came meandering in, and then stopped, staring and whitening.

“You’re going to the cops,” I said, leveling it at his head. “Make a move and I’ll shoot. And don’t think I won’t.” Truthfully, my hands were trembling—I had zero experience with guns. I couldn’t even tell if the gun was loaded or not, and had no intention of shooting him. I couldn’t have shouldered the guilt of killing someone, no matter who it was. But I suppose I was believable enough, because he complied until the police arrived to whisk him away.

Weeks later, sitting on the couch with my mom, my friends, and my brother, we watched as Andrew Miller was convicted of eighteen murders, and was to be sent to an asylum for the criminally insane. He had confessed to lurking around at night and murdering “a few” people, but insisted that it was for ‘the good of the citizens,’ and that there truly was a murderer out there. Since he had been ridiculed, he had become the murderer in order to scare people into ‘safety,’ setting up curfews and the Night Watch Society.

“Glad he’s gone,” Alice said brightly. “No more night murderer, we can live freely now.”

“Same,” Julia said.

“Me too,” I said, but was secretly uncertain.

No one saw the man cloaked in shadow watching the unsuspecting town, expressionless and emotionless.