I woke with a start in the middle of the night, shivering a bit from the cool breeze drifting through my open window. The drapes fluttered in the air, performing a ghostly waltz. I rubbed my eyes, then stayed as still as a statue. I hadn’t left a window open when I went to sleep. My eyes darted, seeing almost nothing in the darkness. On the farm, lights were scarce at night. We were too far from town to benefit from their spillover. Gramps always said he preferred to navigate by the stars, which was funny since he probably could have walked the length of the property blindfolded without running into anything. His mother had been born in the house. It was in his blood. I lay in bed silently, even controlling my breath, pretending I was still asleep. Everything that had happened over the last few days had irritated my last nerve. Nothing felt calm or normal. Every little sound sent me into a panic. I let my eyes wander to the window again, trying to force myself to remember the moment I’d gotten back up to open it.
