One night not long ago, a young woman our age is home alone with her dog and reveling in solitude. Smart, practical, and self-sufficient, she doesn't panic when an alert on her phone informs her that a serial killer has escaped from a nearby prison. With her dog at her heels, she surveys the house, locks the doors and windows, curls up with her dog in bed, finishes her book, and drifts off to sleep.
The girl soon awakens -- she hears a distant dripping sound. Half-awake, she checks the kitchen faucets but gives up and returns to bed, receiving a lick on the hand from her loyal dog in comfort. Again she's roused from slumber by the drip, drip, drip, feels the reassuring lick, and falls back to sleep. But the third time, she hops out of bed, determined to locate the source of the incessant noise, and heads for the bathroom.