Night fell. The snow kept coming.

Out on the road, the white layer thickened. Occasionally a set of tire tracks cut through it — someone making their way home.

The flakes drifted without direction, falling wherever they pleased. Snow was the same everywhere in the world. The same clean white, no matter where it landed.

In the middle of the night, Ginny woke up.

She sat up without making a sound, watching the snow outside. She didn't wake anyone. She crept ...