Some hours had passed, and the family had left Heather alone in the living room. The room was barely illuminated by the embers in the fireplace, the wind still howling outside. Heather shivered despite the quilt given to her, still fearing the worst.
There’s still time. I can make it home! Heather crept as quietly as she could off the couch, pushing her coverings aside. She slipped off her shoes and tiptoed across the floor towards the parlor.
“It’s pitch black out there. I need some sort of light,” she told herself. Heather’s eyes glanced around the entryway for where the family stored their lamps. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration upon finding none, making her way into the kitchen. She found a box of matches at least, finally finding an old miner’s lamp near the door to the cellar.