“Mom says you should come back now. The police are here. You’re supposed to tell them what happened to Dad.”

Charlie stared across the pond. The ice had been cleared of its light covering of snow the night before but no one was out skating yet. Ice crystals drifted in the still air, sparking like stars when they caught the sunlight. In the crisp air of dawn, a figure loosely made of snow danced across the ice for a moment. It collapsed.

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to. It’s the police.”

“I don’t care.”

The figure formed again. It gathered snow as it moved and the indistinct figure became more clearly human in its shape. Like an ethereal figure skater, it leaped and whirled.

“It’s very pretty, Charlie. C’mon.”

“I don’t like its hands. I don’t know how to make hands.”

“It’s nice this way. It’s wearing mittens.”

The brothers watched the snow dancer for a moment longer.

“I wish I knew how to make hands.”

The figure disintegrated again.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Jeremy took Charlie’s sleeve. He screamed.