Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

  Huddled together around the fading warmth of their home’s dying fireplace the Rivet family held their collective breaths as whisking winter winds buffeted the house, it’s wooden joints creaking eerily under the strain of the gusts and biting cold.

  “Dad.” A young boy of eight broke the nervous silence. Frightened and confused he wanted to end the tension that twisted the faces of his parents and older sister to a look of dire concern.

  “Hush, Kyle!” His mother scolded, shooting him a stern and reprimanding gaze.

  Knock, knock. The bones of the house rattled anew, seemingly spurred to life by the curt exchange.

  “Is it the wind?” His sister Carla whispered.

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