Two Strangers Knocked During a Christmas Outage. The Moment They Gave Their Names, I Knew Something Was Wrong.

moved toward the front door without turning on any lights. My boots squeaked slightly against the hardwood floor. The house smelled faintly of woodsmoke and the cinnamon candle I hadn’t lit because I was “saving it for later,” which was always a sweet lie we tell ourselves about joy.

I looked through the peephole, my heart hammering harder than the continue reading …