He was panting, his breath puffing into white clouds in the cold night air.

I pressed the panic button on my screen.

The app blinked red to confirm the silent alarm had been sent to the precinct.

Then I slipped the phone into my pocket.

My fingers wrapped around the cold, heavy brass handle of the flashlight on the kitchen counter.

It was a solid piece of metal, heavy enough to break a collarbone.

I crept toward the back hallway, keeping my back pressed against the drywall.

The only light in the kitchen came from the green digits of the oven clock.

Outside, another sharp screech of metal on metal echoed through the room.

Gareth was working quickly, his movements clumsy and desperate.

He didn’t know the glass was impact-resistant.

He didn’t know the frame was bolted with steel anchors deep into the foundation.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the open kitchen.

I reached for the light switch on the wall.

I flipped it.

The twin halogen floodlights on the back patio exploded into life.