The Statement

Ruth wrote out her statement on lined paper, in blue ink, in handwriting that was small and precise.

On the evening of January 14th, approximately 8:40 PM, I observed an unknown male standing across the street from our building near the large oak tree. The individual was looking in the direction of the fourth-floor windows. He remained in position for approximately 15 minutes. I recognized the individual as Liza Marsh's ex-husband from previous encounters in the building lobby and hallway. I took one photograph and contacted Ms. Marsh directly.

She signed it. She dated it. She handed it to Liza, who read it and felt the weight of it — the witness, the documentation, the act of saying: I saw this. This is what I saw.

"Thank you," Liza said.

"You do not have to thank me. This is what neighbors do." Ruth looked at her. "Are you safe?"

Liza thought about the question. She thought about safety, which was something she had stopped believing in, and she thought about the evidence log and the photographs and the statements and the calls that came at nine-fifteen on Thursday nights, and she thought about the word safe, which meant something different now than it had before.

"I do not know," she said. "But I am building something. That is what I can do."