At 5:02 a.m., my reclusive neighbor hammered on my door and whispered, “Don’t go to work today—by noon, you’ll understand,” then vanished like he’d just broken every rule keeping me alive

”

Before I could answer, he stepped backward off the porch.

“Wait.”

He glanced toward the street again. His whole body had changed, angled away from me, ready to move.

“Lock your doors. Keep your phone charged. If anyone calls claiming to be police, ask questions before you believe them.”

“Police?”

“Stay inside.”

Then he turned and walked quickly across my continue reading …