The outside of the cabin had looked quite rustic, the logs worn from the passing of many seasons, the stones at the foundation covered in moss as well as snow. I expected the interior to match it, or at least to be darker than the homes in Villmark. Although the shutters had all been thrown open, the few windows the cabin had were all small, the glass thick to the point of being opaque.
But it soon became apparent that someone had run electricity out to this little hamlet. The minute I stepped inside, I found there was no need for my eyes to adjust. The brightness of the lights in the interior matched the sun on the snow outside. Mainly this was because of the variety of lamps that were all warmly glowing despite it being midday.
But this was also because, while the exterior had all been
