Jenny never knew what woke her up. One minute she was in the middle of a deep sleep and the next she was wide awake, the lightweight quilt tangled around her legs, and her heart drumming her ears. The silence around her was as deep as her sleep had been. It couldn’t have been traffic that woke her; the house was miles from the main road. Maybe it was the moonlight.
An aged floorboard groaned somewhere deep in the house. Thomas lay still in the bed but let his eyelids drift open. He knew he shouldn’t give in to paranoia, but it was hard at night when the branches scrabbled at the shingles like brittle fingernails and they wind rattled the doors as though demanding to be let inside.
A distorted shadow slid across the bedroom ceiling.