Dear Diary,
Things are getting back to normal for my son and I. We still haven't seen Mrs. Corinthos but we know she's around; she came by to pick up some clothes while we were out. In her absence Michael has calmed down and his night terrors have almost completely gone away. I threw away all the red lightbulbs in the bedroom and replaced all the bed linens. Now I can sleep there without feeling unclean.
Our puppy is growing by leaps and bounds. It looks like we're going to keep her, so we named her Lupita. Michael works with her every day, teaching her to sit and fetch, and insists that she sleep in his room every night. He wanted Lupita to sleep in his bed but I put my foot down. What if he rolled over in his sleep and accidently hurt her? She sleeps at the foot of Michael's bed instead.
I took Michael for a walk along the water today. There's this one place on the docks that's so crowded all the time. It's a pretty spot, to be sure, but with so many docks to choose from, why does everyone seem to congregate right there? It seems like you can see the entire population of the town in an afternoon.
This evening one of Mr. Corinthos' men showed up at our house. He told us that Mr. Corinthos had assigned him to look after us and we're not to leave the house without him. I don't much care for this kind of supervision, but with Mr. Corinthos paying the bills I don't really have much say in the matter.
Lupita barks at the poor man constantly. I guess she doesn't like having a no-necked thug hanging around the house either! I ought to scold her, but she's so darned cute. Besides, it's good for her to bark at strangers in the house -- better protection against intruders than that dimwitted bodyguard would be. And to be honest, I'm sort of enjoying his discomfort.