I shoved the heavy wooden bedside table into his path, sending the lamp crashing to the floor and plunging the room into near darkness.

“Run!” I screamed, pushing the girls through the connecting door into Sophie’s room.

We burst through the secondary door and out onto the freezing, snow-covered terrace that led to the eastern gardens.

The night air hit us like a wall of ice, the wind howling off the Aspen peaks and whipping snow into our faces.

The girls were only wearing their pajamas and light sweaters, their boots sinking deep into the fresh drifts.

“Keep moving toward the tree line,” I urged, my breath coming in ragged white plumes.

Behind us, the glass door of the bedroom shattered as Vance forced his way out onto the terrace.

“You can’t run in this, Elena!” he shouted into the wind. “You’ll freeze before you reach the road!”

We stumbled down the stone steps, my boots slipping on the black ice beneath the snow.

Grace slipped, letting out a sharp cry as she fell into a drift.