Hello, and welcome to bedtime stories with me. Race brat. Well, last time, April and Finn found their cockroach for the races. So let's see what happens next. Here we go. Chapter 10, something in the bushes. Dad was fast asleep in his office. He could never sleep at night. He was too scared. That's when the bad dreams would come. But for some reason, when he sat at his desk with a huge pile of work to get through on a warm afternoon, he could sleep like a baby. He was dreaming about a Venus fly trap. It kept growing bigger and bigger than when he looked down, he realized he was standing inside the plant's jaws. He tried to escape, but the jaws had been triggered and they were snapping shut. He couldn't push through the teeth. When he looked up, the leaves of the plant were folding over him to kill him. But then the leaves transformed into his wife and the teeth were samurai swords swishing through the air towards him. Wow. Cry, dad. As a noise had woken him up. His first thought was of his wife, but then he remembered she was in jail. On the other side of the world. He knew he shouldn't be relieved, but he was, then he remembered that there were other people out there almost as scary collective agents who wanted to kill him. Dad heard the noise again. It was faint, but definitely a worrying like a power drill. Dad lept to his feet. He was too terrified to confront anyone, but he was brave enough to go and see if he needed to run away. Dad crept over to the window. He couldn't see anything as quietly as possible. He pushed up the sash and leaned out. There was nobody there. Then his eye caught a movement at the fire end of the garden. He could have sworn, he saw a foot disappear into the hedge. Dad started to tremble. Someone had been there. What were they doing? What did they want? If they were gonna kill him? Why didn't they just do it? Dad awkwardly climbed out of the window to have a closer look. Perhaps he'd imagined it. His psychologist had told him that he had an overactive imagination, perhaps a worrying wasn't a drill. It was the wind. And perhaps the movement in the bushes was just a rabbit or some other wild animal. Dad couldn't see any alteration to the outside of the house. Then he noticed something, something tiny on the grass, right by the house. He crouched down to get a closer look. There was a very small pile of so dust as if someone had drilled a hole in the side of the house, dad ran his hands along the wall, taken his time to thoroughly search, but he couldn't find a hole. What did that mean? Had someone drilled a hole, then filled it. This was going from bad to worse. And that is the end of the chapter. I know it's a short one, but some are long. Some are short. That's just the way I wrote the book. So anyway, that's it for now until next time. Goodbye.