Long past bedtime nighttime mountain winter air sparkles ice inside her nose with the inbreath deep, deep, free, they’re asleep, they’re all asleep. Ember closes the door soft behind her and smells the moon: pines, minty, peppery pines, their outlines blurring green together into black. Off the stoop in nightgown and coat, she shifts the kitty backpack of graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate. Socks, underpants, Jenny doll. Boots crush footprints in hard snow, slow then fast, making for the woods for …