Isabel heard the wind pick up, crying under the eaves and rattling the windows on the north side of the house. Moments later, she heard her father’s shuffling footsteps in the hall, pausing for a long time outside of their room before moving down and down into the basement to start the sharpening wheel. Isabel woke Jet carefully and, together, they dropped the rope out of the window, lowered themselves into the yard, ran to the shed, and locked themselves in. Jet was quickly back asleep on the cushions they’d put out there, but Isabel stood watch. They had a flashlight and some sandwiches in the lockbox if they needed them and a couple of hatchets within reach. She tested the padlock on the inside of the shed door and listened. Isabel hated the wind. It made everybody crazy.