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I was still screaming when footsteps thundered down the hallway.

Not thirty seconds later, my shirtless, boxer-wearing dad burst into my room, gun in hand.

He flipped on the overhead light. It came on immediately.

That answered one question. The power was not out.

Dad’s eyes swept the room. Bathroom. Closet.

Window. Floor. Me.

He swept behind my bedroom door, then shoved it flat against the wall as he moved past.

“What happened, babygirl?” he demanded. “What is it? Nightmare?”

I was panting, out of breath, and it took me a long time to catch enough of it to speak.

“Someone’s in the house.” My voice came out little better than a whimper. “Someone was in here with me.”

Dad changed. That was the only way to describe it.

One second he was my half-naked father woken out of a dead sleep.

The next he was Detective Piper. “Stay here.”

Sunshine appeared behind him in sleep shorts and one of his old T-shirts. She was clutching a gun in her right hand like it was second nature to her. It was.

Then he disappeared into the hall.

“Buck—”

“I’m clearing the house.”

Sunshine didn’t argue.

She crossed directly to me and climbed onto the bed, pulling me against her with one arm while keeping the gun pointed safely down with the other.

“Breathe, baby,” she murmured.

“I’m not dreaming.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I was asleep when it touched me.”

“Okay.” Her voice was steady.

That helped. Not enough. Nothing would have been enough.

Dad moved room by room. I could hear doors opening. Closet tracks. His footsteps.

A light switching on somewhere. Then another.

Sunshine stroked my hair.

I hated that I was shaking. I hated that I couldn’t make it stop.

Ten minutes later Dad came back. He had put on sweatpants somewhere in the process.