CHAPTER 3 The Night the Windows Broke

The sound was deafening.

Glass exploded throughout the house with a force so violent that it sounded like gunfire.

Jean screamed.

For one terrifying moment, she remained frozen on the basement stairs, unable to move, unable to breathe.

The child's voice still echoed in her ear.

"You came back."

Then the lights returned.

Every bulb in the basement flickered back to life at once.

Jean spun around.

The basement was exactly as it had been before.

The old furniture.

The stone walls.

The dust.

And the black box.

Closed.

Sitting quietly in the corner.

As though nothing had happened.

As though it had never happened.

Another scream came from upstairs.

"JEAN!"

This time, she recognized Samantha's voice.

Without looking back, Jean ran.

She climbed the basement stairs two at a time, nearly falling twice. Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might pass out.

When she reached the kitchen, she stopped.

The entire house was chaos.

Amanda stood near the dining room, holding Tom tightly against her chest. The boy was crying.

William had grabbed a fireplace poker and was staring at the shattered windows around them.

Cold winter air rushed into the house.

Broken glass covered the floor.

And Samantha stood at the center of the room, pale as death.

"Jean!" Amanda cried, rushing toward her. "Where were you?"

"The basement," Jean whispered.

William turned sharply.

"The basement?"

Before Jean could answer, Samantha spoke.

Her voice trembled.

"There was someone upstairs."

The room fell silent.

William frowned.

"What?"

Samantha swallowed.

"I saw someone."

"No," Amanda said softly. "You probably heard the windows break and—"

"I know what I saw."

Everyone looked at Samantha.

She had never looked so frightened.

Her hands shook.

"There was a girl standing in my room."

The words seemed to steal all the warmth from the house.

Tom buried his face deeper into Amanda's coat.

William forced himself to laugh.

"A girl?"

Samantha nodded.

"She was standing by the window."

"What did she look like?" Jean asked quietly.

Samantha's eyes moved toward her sister.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then she spoke.

"She looked..." Samantha's voice cracked. "She looked like she had been crying."

No one said anything.

Outside, the wind howled through the broken windows.

William finally sighed.

"We've all had a long day."

"Dad—"

"No."

His voice wasn't angry.

It was frightened.

"We've been driving all day. We're exhausted. The windows probably broke because of the weather."

Amanda nodded quickly.

"Your father is right."

But even she didn't sound convinced.

Because outside, the snow had stopped falling.

And there was no wind.

Not anymore.

An hour later, the Roberts family sat together in the living room.

William had managed to cover the broken windows with blankets and old boards from the garage.

Nobody wanted to sleep.

The fireplace crackled softly.

Tom had fallen asleep against Amanda's shoulder.

Jean sat silently, staring at the flames.

She hadn't told anyone about the voice.

Or the hand on her neck.

Or the box.

She didn't know why.

Part of her was afraid no one would believe her.

Another part was afraid they would.

Samantha sat across from her.

She hadn't spoken in nearly twenty minutes.

Finally, William stood up.

"Tomorrow we'll call someone to fix the windows."

Amanda nodded.

"And maybe have the electrical system checked."

"Exactly."

He forced another smile.

"Everything's fine."

The smile looked wrong.

Like he was trying to convince himself.

A loud knock suddenly echoed through the house.

Everyone jumped.

Three knocks.

Slow.

Heavy.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

William stared at the front door.

"Who would be here at this hour?"

Amanda looked at the clock.

11:47 PM.

Nobody answered.

The knocking came again.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

William grabbed the fireplace poker.

"Stay here."

He walked slowly toward the front door.

Jean felt her stomach twist.

Something felt wrong.

Very wrong.

The house had become completely silent.

Even the fireplace seemed quieter.

William reached the door.

He hesitated.

Then unlocked it.

The door creaked open.

Cold air rushed inside.

No one was there.

Only darkness.

And snow.

William stepped outside.

"Hello?"

No answer.

He looked left.

Then right.

Nothing.

The front yard was empty.

Slowly, he turned back toward the house.

"Nobody's—"

He stopped.

His face lost all color.

Amanda stood up.

"William?"

He didn't answer.

His eyes remained fixed on something in the snow.

Something just beyond the front steps.

Amanda hurried over.

Then she saw it too.

Jean stood up.

"What is it?"

Nobody answered.

She walked toward the door.

And then she saw it.

Footprints.

Small footprints.

Bare footprints.

They began at the front gate.

Crossed the snow-covered path.

And ended directly in front of the front door.

There were no footprints leading away.

Only footprints leading to the house.

As if someone had walked there.

And never left.

Tom woke up.

"Dad?"

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Amanda slowly looked up at William.

"Where did they go?"

William opened his mouth.

But before he could answer, a sound echoed through the house.

A child's laughter.

Coming from upstairs.

Everyone looked toward the staircase.

And for one horrifying second, illuminated by the flickering firelight, Jean saw a little girl standing at the top of the stairs.

Watching them.

Then the lights went out.

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