Cassie traced a finger down the window, trying to keep pace with a drip of rain on the other side. It swung from side to side as it slid down, disappearing eventually and becoming again a part of the unnamed, unidentified mass of noise and wet. Its cousins continued to spatter the surface and offer to race her, but Cassie was bored of that game now. She stared ahead of her, out into the dark and endless storm, and tried to think of something else to play. But she’d already played all the games she could think of that could be played just sitting on her own by a window. She turned away, and looked into the fire across the room, crackling and twitching, flickering and dancing, reaching and beckoning. The old lady in the chair dozed on.