When the key was inserted into the keyhole, I heard my son say a soft "eh" behind me.
"What's wrong?" I didn't look back. I twisted it twice and the door opened.
Lu Xiaoxing did not answer. The five-year-old child stood in the corridor, tilting his head and staring at the closed door next door, his eyes too bright for his age. We had moved so many times, and he had long since learned not to make noises, but I could still feel that something was wrong with him.
"Mommy," he finally said, his voice was very low, as if he was afraid of being heard, "the new neighbor has a lot of black bubbles in his belly, and he is thinking of how to harm you."
