Stig zips up his boots, then attaches Gandalf’s lead and slides back the bolt. It’s cold and damp, but the fog has nearly lifted. Dark clouds smother the sky so that the moon is a faint blurred halo. As I do up my coat, the thought of going near the tree makes my stomach turn. I can’t face it, not after such a nice meal. ‘I might stay here and watch, if that’s OK?’

Gandalf charges down the steps towards a clump of grass. ‘Sure!’ shouts Stig, his arm waving wildly as he’s pulled by the lead. Gandalf sniffs like a dog possessed, then lurches again, his nose close to the ground. I laugh as Stig is dragged around. I’m not sure who’s taking who for a walk.

Stamping my feet against the cold, I watch as they jog past the woodshed to the rear of the cabin. Even with the light of the moon, they soon become shadowy shapes. The longer I stand on the porch, the less I like it. Maybe I should call them back. But it’s only been a few minutes; Stig will think I’m silly. Besides, I can hear his voice complaining in Norwegian – they can’t be far. I watch my breath hang on the air and peer into the gloom. There’s something odd about the darkness. It doesn’t feel as empty as it should.

A howl shatters the night. A terrible, guttural sound – on and on like it might never stop. My heart batters against my ribcage. ‘Stig!’ I scan the darkness and yell his name again, but the only thing I hear is Gandalf barking.

Another terrifying howl. What the hell is that? I’ve only ever heard a wolf howl in movies, but this is nothing like that.

Something races past me. Not a person, but the shadow of a person.

I spin around, my fists clenched. Another shadow flickers past my shoulder, and another. I turn around and more rush past me into the cabin – all of them on my left side. The side where I am blind.

8

‘What do you think it was?’ I ask.

Stig unclips Gandalf’s lead, then kicks off his boots. ‘A wolf – what else?’ He sounds angry with me, or maybe he’s annoyed with himself for thinking it was a dog. Either way, there’s something in the harshness of his tone I don’t like.

I pace the room, my mind a whirl. I can’t see anything strange now, but there was something out there, moving in the darkness. I saw things rush into the cabin – yet how could that be? Since the accident I’ve had zero sight in my left eye. I cover my right eye with my hand just to be sure. Nothing. A severed ocular nerve is just that: severed. It can’t heal itself.