Most nights were the same—early dinners, slow sips of tea, and the hum of wind outside. Tonight, though, the weather was turning. A storm had been crawling across the region all day, and now it was nearly here.
Raymond had checked the locks twice, sealed the windows, and stoked the fire high in the stove. Everything was ready. He had just sat on the edge of his bed, quilt pulled halfway over his legs, when the doorbell rang.