The yard was overgrown, the grass long and going to seed, a child’s bicycle tipped over and rusting in the weeds like it had been there for months.

The patio furniture was scattered and filmed with grime.

And the swimming pool — the pool had gone a thick, still, poisoned green, its surface skinned over with something that didn’t move, and under that surface, when I made myself look, I could see them.

Dark shapes.

Several of them, bulky and wrong, resting on the bottom of the deep end where Julian had sunk them.

My whole body went cold.