Lilly Grace stood in the snow outside the warm cabin and counted the windows like she used to. The fireplace glowed orange behind the glass. Inside, her mother moved past with red hair pinned up. Lilly Grace pressed her palm to the door. She wanted to knock. She wanted them to open it and know her face before they forgot it. But a knock would not be enough. A girl at the door, alone in the snow, would only frighten them. She needed proof. She turned and searched the yard for something only her family would know. The snowman she had built last winter still stood by the steps, wearing her purple mittens and her heart-printed scarf. Half-buried at its feet sat her stuffed rabbit, its little gold L necklace catching the porch light. She had lost it the day before everything ended. Only she knew where it had fallen. Lilly Grace lifted the rabbit. Her fingers closed around it. Solid. Real. She climbed the stone steps, the necklace warm in her hand, and raised her fist to the door.