Chapter 3Sleep didn't come easily that night. I tossed and turned endlessly, awakening to my comforter balled up on the floor and the fitted sheet torn from the bed. The endless chattering of my teeth filled the room, and my limbs shivered from near frostbite. Baxter was snoring, curled inside my sweater on the chair.
Upon locating my missing glasses and chipping off a dozen clingy icicles, I swung open the curtains to stare at a pristine white snowdrift blanketing the lower half of the window. The weatherman was finally right—over four inches of fluffy death crystals had accumulated overnight. Pregnant clouds plastered the bright blue sky with a desolate warning of calamity yet to come. After pulling on a second pair of wool socks and a thick flannel robe, I shimmied to the kitchen like
