The cheerful whistle sliced through the cabin's tense silence like a razor. It was a mundane sound, the kind a man might make walking to work on a sunny day, and that made it infinitely more terrifying out here in the cold early dawn.
Every one of them froze.
Kade's head snapped up, his eyes locking on the front window. He held up a hand, a sharp, silent command for absolute quiet. Slowly, deliberately, he moved to the side of the window, pressing his back against the log wall, the fireplace poker held tight.
Lillian's hand trembled on the spotlight's handle. Her knuckles were white. Marissa had frozen in the act of handing a bottle of water to Hailey, her eyes wide with fresh terror. Dane stood statue-still by a taped-up window, his breath held.
The whistle came again, closer this time. It was a specific tune, old-fashioned and jaunty.
Hailey let out a choked gasp, clapping her hands over her mouth. Bobby Joe put a shaking arm around her, pulling her close, his own face ashen.
