239 I had been gone for five days, but nothing prepared me for what I saw when I opened the door: my wife juggling dinner and our sick toddler, while my mother and sister sat nearby on their phones.

“Ethan!” Lauren screamed from the top of the stairs, her voice laced with sudden, sharp panic.

“Stay there! Stay with Noah!” Ethan yelled, pulling out his phone to use the flashlight.

He checked his phone signal. No service. The Wi-Fi was down because of the power, but his cellular data was completely dead too. Someone had jammed the signal or cut the lines outside.

He crept toward the front door, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

He looked through the peephole. Nothing but falling snow.

Then, a sudden, violent crash echoed from the back of the house. The sound of shattered glass shattering the silence of the kitchen.

Noah began to cry upstairs, terrified by the noise.

Ethan bolted toward the kitchen, his phone light cutting through the shadows. He reached the island just in time to see a figure stepping through the broken French doors.

The silhouette was small, wearing a heavy winter coat, snow clinging to its shoulders.

“Mom?” Ethan breathed, raising his phone light.

The light illuminated the face. But it wasn't Patricia.

It was Melissa.

She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, her eyes wide with frantic, breathless terror. She wasn't holding a weapon. She was holding a duffel bag.

“Ethan, you have to get out of here right now!” Melissa screamed, rushing forward and grabbing his jacket. “She knows! She knows I gave you the flash drive! She found out about the identity theft report you were looking into!”

“Melissa, what are you talking about? Where is she?!” Ethan demanded, shaking her.

“She’s not coming to talk, Ethan!” Melissa sobbed, her body shaking violently. “She’s completely gone. She lost the townhouse application because the bank flagged it today. She thinks you ruined her life for the last time. She... she bought a can of gasoline, Ethan. She’s outside.”