His shoulders sag. “Tricia, stop being silly. The master bedroom is by far the biggest room. This is where we’re going to sleep when we’re living here.”

Yeah, over my dead body.

“Also,” he adds, “it’s the only bed that’s made up. I don’t even know where she keeps all the sheets and stuff, but I don’t feel like searching for it. I’m tired, and I just want to go to sleep. Aren’t you tired?”

A wave of exhaustion comes over me out of nowhere. That’s been happening to me more and more lately. In the evening, I’ll suddenly feel almost overwhelmed by fatigue. I suppose it’s because my body is making an entire other person.

In any case, I agree—I don’t feel like searching for a linen closet and making up a bed.

“Fine,” I say. “We can sleep in the master bedroom.”

When we get inside the master bedroom, the first thing I do is try to lock the door. After that mysterious light I saw aglow on the second floor, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without the door locked. Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asks from over in the bed. He has stripped off the blue jeans, but he is still wearing the Yankees T-shirt.

“I want to lock the door.”

“I don’t think it locks.”

I whip my head around to glare at him. “What kind of bedroom doesn’t have a lock on the door?”

“I don’t know, Tricia.” There is an exasperated note in his voice. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, and she lives alone. Why would she need a lock on her bedroom door when there’s already a lock on the front door?”

Because there might be somebody in her house and she needed to keep them out while she called for help? Speaking of calling for help, I haven’t seen one landline phone in this whole house. These days most people use cell phones, but given how terrible the reception is out here, it seems reasonable she might have a landline just for safety reasons. But I haven’t seen one.

I back away from the bedroom door, too nervous to take my eyes off it. “How are we going to get out of here tomorrow?”

Ethan adjusts himself in the bed. “I’m hoping after the storm passes our cell phone reception will come back.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Someone will find us soon.” I wish I had the confidence in his voice. “Judy knows we’re here. She might be trying to contact us right now. And of course, your mother will come looking for us if she doesn’t hear from you in any twenty-four-hour period.”

“That’s not true.”