Moving

Kay was moving to Brownville, New York.
Brownville? Who did they know in Brownville? No one.
She only knew how to live in her own house. She knew that the hissing noise she heard when everything was quiet at night was the heater and not an enormous child-eating snake.
She knew the shadows dancing on the bedroom walls were from the branches in the tree I perched in and that it only looked like a monster was raising its arms when the wind blew.
She knew it was exactly thirteen steps from her bed to the bathroom. She did it with her eyes closed at night, thirteen steps, feel for the light switch on the wall on the left and you're in. How would she find her way around in the dark in a new house?
There was a lot of "what if's" keeping her up at night. I did my best to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. "I can fly freely to wherever I want to go," I told her. "I'll move with you. Even when you can't see me, rest assured that I'll never be too far behind you. Have faith in me. "
"It's hard to have faith in something I can't touch," she said.