It gave her an uneasy feeling of being trapped. Being so alone, so isolated.

Even though she had her friends, even though she had her books, and a weekly news forecast of when the snow would clear, being alone in the Maine wilderness was getting to her. Maybe it was the fear of avalanches, the news reporter, who must have been stuck in the news room, had warned them about.

That they shouldn’t even have been there in the first place.

It was a summer home. Not meant for the winter cold.

The walls were so close, tight. Like a blanket around her, if the snow wasn’t enough. And the roof leaked, just above her bed. Enough to drip on her every ten minutes, enough to send a shiver down her spine when the icy chill reached her.

Not to mention the feeling that someone was there.

Someone was watching.