NIKO.
By nightfall, the house had settled into a strange kind of warmth I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t the kind created by heaters or fireplaces, but the kind that came from noise: laughter echoing down hallways, hurried footsteps, the occasional argument over which blanket belonged to who. It was unfamiliar and unsettling and yet, I found myself not wanting it to end.
The twins had been buzzing with excitement all evening because tonight’s activity was their idea: a Christmas horror series they had discovered online and insisted we watch together. I had initially vetoed it, citing nightmares and trauma, but Alex had surprised me by siding with them. She had said, with mock seriousness, that learning to face fear together built character.
Now, as I watched her arrange pillows on the
