The hallway was pitch black, illuminated only by the pale winter light coming through the high skylights.

I ran toward the stairs, my heart in my throat.

The air in the house felt instantly colder, as if a window had been left wide open to the freezing wind.

As I reached the bottom of the staircase, a sharp beam of light cut through the darkness from the top landing.

I froze, shielding my eyes.

“Nora?” a voice called out.

It was Marlene.

She was holding a heavy flashlight, her face pale and lined with worry.

“The power went out,” she said, her voice shaking.

“And then the window in the guest room just shattered.”

“Where is Leo?” I screamed, taking the stairs two at a time.

“He is in my arms,” Marlene said, shifting the beam of light down.

She was holding Leo tight against her chest.

My son was awake, his large, dark eyes blinking in the bright light of the flashlight.

He didn’t cry.

He just looked at me, his small hand clutching Marlene’s collar.

I reached the top landing and grabbed Leo, pulling him into my arms.