Narrator

Lights on outside, doors locked.

Nobody goes out alone.

If we hear anything, we don't answer it.

We repeated that last part like a rule we'd agreed to, and saying it out loud made it feel possible.

At around nine, the power flickered and went out.

Not gradually.

Not like a storm rolling in, just a sudden cut, like someone had flipped a switch.

The cabin went dark, except for the glow of the gas range clock, which kept blinking at us like a heartbeat.

Eric swore.

Nora lit candles with a steadiness that looked practiced.

Maddie sat very still, hands clenched around her pepper spray like it could solve problems.

Outside, the wind chimes moved once, one heavy clang, and then stopped.

I went to the window and looked out.

Total darkness beyond the glass.

No porch light, obviously, but also no distant glow, no hint of another house.

We were alone in a bowl of trees.

Then, from somewhere behind the cabin, came a knock.

Not on the door.

On the logs themselves.

Three taps, evenly spaced, like someone testing a wall.