The drive up to the Hodukavich house was long, snow-dusted, and weirdly quiet. Bryan had been humming Christmas songs for the last hour, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

Now the car crunched to a stop in the driveway of a huge, warm-looking house. Twinkling lights lined every window. A wreath hung on the door. Somewhere inside, a dog was barking.