It was only February, but it felt like spring in the way it sometimes does when the sun shines warm on your hair and the sky burns sapphire blue. Tony and I sat on the limp, brownish grass. I was petting Sally, our husky with one foot and trying to french braid his short, black hair when he looked up at me, shaking the plait loose. "Don't you wish we could get out of here?"

"Get out of here how?" I asked my brother. He twirled a blade of grass between his fingers and his brown-green eyes looked thoughtful. With his tan skin and athletic figure, he was much taller than me and two years older. The kids in his class thought he was Hispanic until they realized he was related to me: Katelyn Burnett, the pale, freckly sixth grader with that mane of red hair and weird, dark blue eyes.

That was years ago, and now Tony belonged to a small homeschool group that met once a week. I was at Lewis and Clark, the tiny high school in town, with an entire population about half the size of the freshman class at the main high school. I missed Anthony during the day, but these walks to the park with Sally made up for it.

"Oh, you know," Tony said. "A mystery to solve would be nice. Or one of us could even get kidnapped. Anything, I guess."

I smiled that he included me in his musings. "So long as you're the one who gets kidnapped," I joked. But I knew what he meant. Our tiny town in the middle of Oregon was sorely lacking any kind of adventure.

"So, I'll get kidnapped, and you'll come after my captors with what? A book?" My brother hardly ever teased me for my bookworm tendencies, and today I knew it was a friendly sort of teasing.

"With my epic ninja skills, of course!" He smiled, and I laughed, and he grabbed the dog's leash and we headed home.

"Okay, okay, focus!" I scolded myself. I closed the YouTube tab on my laptop screen and clicked on the online algebra book. My school gave both a math and Math Theory class, a homework pile which induced more than a few headaches during the week. I rubbed my temples, put my iPod on shuffle, and forced myself to struggle through the last six problems.

I glanced at the clock. "Emily, Mom says you can come down now!"

Immediately, little footsteps began to patter above me and then I heard her come down the stairs. I went to the hall and stepped into a Kodak moment.

Emmy, five years old and the most adorable thing you've ever seen, stood on the second step to the bottom. She held her teddy bear by the foot with one hand and rubbed an eye with the other.

I picked her up and spun. Her bright blond hair swung by her shoulders, and her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown. Neither of us looked like Silas, who had brown hair and blue eyes, or Eliza, who more resembled Tony than any of the rest of us. "How was your nap?"

"Fine."

"Did you sleep at all?"

My little sister nodded earnestly. "Where's Mama?" she asked.

"She went on a long run. She'll be back in forty-five minutes, she said."

"How long is that?"

"Two VeggieTales episodes," I explained, grinning.

"Ooohhh," Emily said, "where are the boys?"

"Tony went to go get groceries, and Silas's at the park." I sighed. Tony, who'd just turned sixteen and got his driver's license, had offered to take me with him, but I'd opted to finish my homework before youth group. Plus, we couldn't leave Emmy alone.

I set Emily down on the kitchen floor and got her a glass of milk. "So, goosie. It's just us chickens. What'll it be for supper, hm?"

"Quesadillas!" She pronounced it 'kay-sa-dill-ahs' like she always did, and I ruffled her hair like I always did.

I put on some music and danced around the kitchen, getting out ingredients while Emily set herself up with a puzzle. I chuckled to imagine how ridiculous I must look, wearing my dad's huge sweatshirt that smelled like coffee and my bright tie-dyed shorts, using a salt shaker as a microphone. But the window blinds were closed, and my little sister was used to my antics, so I didn't care.

I was in the middle of unloading the dishwasher, Emily sitting at the table with a quesadilla and some hastily sliced apples when I heard a knock on the door. I grinned. Maybe it was Paul Junior on his way back from track practice. He usually stopped by on the way to his house for a few minutes of conversation. He was my brother's friend, but Tony tended to be gone when Paul came around, so I was the one who made small talk in the doorway. I wondered sometimes if Paul came when my brother was out on purpose.

I looked in the hallway mirror and fixed my hair, grasping the handle for a moment, ready to say "hey, stranger," which always made him smile, but when I opened the door it wasn't Paul after all. Instead, an elderly man stood on my doorstep.

His skin was so pale it looked a transparent gray, spotted with age. He had to be two feet taller than me, but his place at the foot of the steps put our eyes at about the same level. His were colorless, almost the same grey as his complexion. His clothes were completely grey, so I could hardly tell fabric from skin. He smelled strongly of smoke.

I smiled hesitantly. My mom told me to be polite to my elders, but old people always made me nervous, with their fragile hands I had to shake and their advice that made me squirm. And he was staring intently at me, his head slightly tilted.

I got ready to close the door at a moment's notice. "Can I help you, sir?"

He said nothing, just tilted his head some more to the side and then I start to realize things. Like the fact that his face wasn't an old man's anymore, but a muzzle, with burning red eyes set low above it. Like how the thing was towering over me on muscular legs, on all fours, like a dog. How it made a noise like a growl and threw itself at the doorway. I slammed the door shut and clicked the lock with trembling fingers.

I heard a whimper and I gasped. Emily stood behind me, her chubby hands covering her eyes. I dropped to a crouch and hugged her, gathering her into my arms like I had a million times when nightmares scared her down to my room or a knee scrape pushed tears onto those precious cheeks.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's fine. You're fine, I'm fine, we're fine. Anthony is going to come home soon, and Silas is probably on his way home from the park, and then we can play hide-and-seek, okay? You can be on my team if you want," I mumbled into her hair. Knowing she needed me helped me keep my cool. She was still shaking and I hoisted her onto my hip and carried her to my room, locking my door behind us.

We crouched on the floor of my bedroom for what felt like hours, until Emily shifted to walk to the door. There were new sounds of commotion outside, shouts and clangs and I could hardly imagine what was going on. I glanced at Emily. "Lock yourself in," I said. "I'm going to go take a look."

She grabbed my legs. "No!" Tears started to rush again, and I sighed.

I kept my tone light, as though nothing was wrong at all. "It's okay, honey, I'll be back in three seconds. I'm just going to peek through the mail slot, that's all."

I gently pushed her back into my room and waited until I heard her click the lock. Then I tiptoed into the living room, to the big window facing our front yard. And what I saw almost made me scream again.