CRACK.

The second blow sent glass raining across the rug. A jagged hole opened and the storm came howling through it.

Ryan shoved his arm through, tearing his sleeve open on the edge, groping for the interior latch. His face was a mask of pure animal desperation.

“I told you not to make this ugly, Claire!”

His hand found the latch. The window groaned inward.

He swung a leg up and put his muddy boot on the sill. Arthur crowded in behind him, eyes raking the dark interior of my home, hunting for the thing that would end him.