Oh.
 
 Why did I keep him at a distance for so long?
 
 With a slightly watery smile, I lean forward and hug him. “You did. You always do.”
 
 I’m jerkedout of sleep, my heart slamming hard against my chest.
 
 At first, I can’t figure out why.
 
 The house is quiet.
 
 I’m snuggled under the covers, toasty warm against the faint chill of the room. My clock glows faintly on the bedside table, displaying a time I should usually be asleep. A quick glance out the window shows the snow still falling steadily, huge flakes glowing white in the moonlight.
 
 It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.
 
 I probably just heard a tree breaking outside. Or the ice clinking into the tray in the freezer.
 
 Then I hear something.
 
 A creak.
 
 Or is it?
 
 Then I hear it again. This time, I’m sure.
 
 Definitely a creak.
 
 My pulse rockets to triple speed.
 
 But it could be nothing. Right? The house settling, whatever that is.
 
 I sit up in bed, too rattled to lie still.
 
 Should I check? Look around to see if there’s a rational explanation for this?
 
 Maybe I should call the police.
 
 But what would I say? I heard a creak in my log cabin? They’d laugh me off the phone.
 
 Still. I start to push the covers off, gathering my courage to investigate. To prove I’m braver than simple bumps in the night.
 
 Then.
 
 A low chuckle.
 
 My gaze jumps to the doorway.
 
 Oh, God.
 
 There’s a man. All in dark clothing. A mask covers his face. The whites of his eyes are terrifyingly bright in the darkness.
 
 God.
 
 I need to do something.
 
 He raises his hand. In it, something shines dully.
 
 Panic has me frozen.