I stood at the entrance, my hand gripping the cold metal handle. A fresh layer of glistening snow blanketed the ground in front of me. But something wasn’t right.

There were footprints.

My breath caught in my throat. They led away from the house—long, narrow prints pressed into the untouched snow. No one should’ve been here.

A sharp gust of icy wind whipped past me, stinging my cheeks and sending ...