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you from choking on your own vomit.”
    Gianna’s tilted her head to one side. “Poor thing. She’s heard me tell too many stories.”
    “Stories?” Chris asked.
    She gave a grim look. “Stories that naturally come from working with dead people every day.”
    “Ah,” said Chris. “I bet you see some fascinating things.”
    “Most people say ‘gross things.’”
    “That, too.” He deftly maneuvered a sandwich onto a plate and slid it in front of her.
    “It looks incredible,” Gianna stated. She took a look at her daughter. “I’m not waking her up. I suspect she needs sleep more than anything right now.”
    “She’ll have plenty of time to eat. We’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

    Gianna carefully inched down the ladder from the loft. Dim light filtered into the cabin from the moon outside. She’d slept, but had spent the last hour staring at the close ceiling with images of the destroyed roof of her cabin and the mystery path in the snow bouncing around her brain.
    How did the fire start?
    Is Chris right that it was arson?
    She’d finally gotten up, hoping a glass of water would put her back to sleep. She stepped off the last rung, turned, and sucked in a breath.
    Chris stood ten feet away.
    “Jeez! You scared me to death.” She tried to calm her racing heart. “Did I wake you?”
    “No. I was up.”
    He didn’t expand on his statement.
    She silently stared back at him, caution creeping up her spine. She couldn’t see his eyes in the faint light. “What’s going on?” He was tense. Wide awake and standing where he could see out the front window and the side window at the same time. She knew the curtains had been drawn when she went to bed. Now they were completely open.
    “Nothing. I don’t sleep much. Sometimes I just like to listen so I’m aware of what’s going on.”
    She listened and heard a whole lot of silence. “You’re worried.”
    He looked away, and she realized he was still in the jeans and shirt he’d worn that day. Violet had napped for several hours and woken up starving around dinnertime. Chris had heated them a simple meal of leftover stew and steamed rice that both she and Violet swore was the best thing they’d tasted in months. Later Gianna had picked a mystery from his shelf of novels while Violet entertained herself with games on her phone. Everyone had gone to bed early. Or so she’d thought.
    “Did you hear someone outside?” How long has he been standing like that? I’ve been awake for an hour and haven’t heard a peep.
    “No. It’s quiet.”
    She moved to look out the front window. Moonlight reflected off the snow, doubling its radiance. She scanned for fresh tracks and paths. The snow sparkled and the frozen branches of the trees glistened. It was beautiful, but marred by her knowledge of the burned husk of a cabin a mile away. And the odd mystery path. Turning around, she saw Chris still hadn’t moved.
    “You’ve been standing there all night, haven’t you?”
    “No.”
    Yeah, right.
    “I slept on the couch for a while,” he admitted. “I’m awake a lot during the nights out here. Actually back home, too.”
    “Why?”
    He paused before answering. “I don’t need much sleep. Never have.”
    His head moved slightly and the moonlight illuminated two of the scars on his neck. Gianna focused on the scars, wondering about his past, and decided not to ask more questions. If he wanted to play vampire, she wasn’t going to stop him.
    “Did you need something?” he asked.
    “Just water. Unless you have something stronger.”
    A wisp of a smile crossed his face as he lit a lamp. “Sorry. Water it is.” He drew the curtains.
    The gas lamp would reveal us to anyone outside.
    He poured some water from a refrigerated filtered pitcher, and she sat on the stool where she’d perched to eat her sandwich the previous day. Is he always extra cautious or just tonight?
    “Sometimes I have a hard time falling asleep after a particularly rough