The great room was warm on account of a good little fire in the hearth doing its duty. But in spite of that, the house felt cold and uninviting.

Kelty's grandfather leaned against the brickwork of the mantle where his socks still hung to dry from the washing. His back was turned to her, and Kelty was once again rooted in place. She knew he was in a temper over the lights and not sure what would come next.

I should just go, she thought.

Hm, said the Voice. It's cruel of him to torment you like this. The silent shoulder punishes you twice, first in your imagination and then however he decides.