Dandelion Wine - Alternate ending

In my English class we read part of Dandelion Wine, stopping at the part where Lavinia runs home after the movie from what she thought was the lonely one. In her house, the last thing our excerpt says is, "Behind her in the living room, someone cleared his throat." Now we're supposed to write what happens next. Here's what I wrote.

Also, if you haven't read the story, a part or two won't make quite that much sense, which sounds a bit obvious, but I just wanted to make sure it was understood.

Dandelion Wine Ending

Behind her in the living room, someone cleared his throat.

Lavinia froze, her fingers resting on the light switch. Her heart skipped a beat as a mixture of shock and fear rippled through her. The relief she’d felt moments before seemingly laughed at her now that she’d left the inhospitable, yet safer streets for the belly of the beast.

She thought about flipping the light switch and turning around to face the man, but fear held her back. What if that was all that kept him from attacking? As long as the man was enveloped within the darkness behind her, he felt in control. But could she just stand there, waiting for him to decide her fate? No. Afraid or not, she had to at least turn around. Gathering up every scrap of courage, she slowly turned towards the living room.

The only light to see by was from the street lamps’ glow that shone through the windows. Lavinia stood within the shadow formed by the door, and the windows on both sides let in a long trail of light with the cross-shape of the windowpane cutting down the middle. The light ended just outside the living room, continuing to hide its inhabitant. Even so, she squinted and tried her best to make something out.

She soon identified the furniture having known previously where they were. The couch, the chairs, the armoire, and everything else was accounted for, but there was one tall shadow that stood out as unnatural. It was far too thick to be the coat stand and not tall enough to be the grandfather clock. Then it moved.

Lavinia’s heart raced and her breathing stopped. Someone was there. Was it the Lonely One? She couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. All she could think of was why she hadn’t just accepted Francine and Helen’s offer. She could have been sitting together with a friend now, safe, sipping the promised hot chocolate. But no. She’d had to prove she wasn’t afraid, and now the newspaper headlines would read “Lavinia Nebbs; the Lonely One’s Latest Victim.”

The shadow man took a few steps forward, stopping only when the light of the window fell halfway up his thighs. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and old socks. His fingers dangled out of the darkness and into the light, disappearing before the knuckles. They were thick and strong. The fingers of a strangler.

Lavinia slowly reached back for her last hope, the door handle. She felt the cold metal and tried it, but it stood fast. It was still locked.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks as hopelessness set in. There was no way out. She was going to die.

The shadow man continued forward, periodically stopping as if to savor her fear. Lavinia clenched her eyes shut before his face came into view. She didn’t want to see it.

The man stopped in front of her. She could tell because she felt his whiskey scented breath. Lavinia tensed up and awaited her death, but then…

The man turned on the lights and said, “What are you doing in my house?”

Her eyes flipped open, and she looked up at him. He was middle aged, balding, and had a look of pure confusion on his face. Lavinia was shocked. Had she really made that dumb of a mistake?

“B-but my key worked.”

The man rubbed his eyes with his palms to rid them of sleep and paused. Then he blushed. “I guess that would explains why mine didn’t work.”

Lavinia, now having recovered from the surprise, started shouting at him, far angrier with him then she had been at Frank Dillon. “Then how did you get in here? I know this is my house. My lemonade from earlier is still out there for God’s sake!”

The man backed away, putting his hands up as if to fight off any blows. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I guess I had a little too much to drink.”

“But how did you get in?”

The man paused. “Kitchen window.”

Lavinia’s face went red in anger and the man thought she may explode. But instead she closed her eyes, pointed to the door, and said, “Get out before I call the police.”

He nodded, and tried the door. “Uh… It’s locked.”

Lavinia pushed him out of the way and quickly undid all the locks. Then, without a word, shoved him outside, shut the door, and relocked everything. She leaned against the door and sighed. Finally her night was over.

Lavinia walked over to the phone to call Francine like she’d said she would. After dialing, she waited until she heard her friend pick up the phone.

“Lavinia, is that you?” She sounded urgent.

“Yes, it is. You won't believe what happened to me tonight.”