โTis the night before Christmas
**and the aroma of pine and fading gingerbread hung heavy in the air.**
The children were nestled, but their parents were not, for a low, rhythmic *thump-thump-thump* had begun in the atticโa sound far too heavy for a restless mouse.
The father, a practical man, whispered to his wife, "It's just the old house settling," but his eyes were fixed on the hearth, where a single, oversized, black leather boot print had appeared on the freshly swept stone.
This was not the night for settling; this was the night for a miracle, or at the very least, a very strong ladder. He knew then that the only way to save Christmas was to go up and see just what Saint Nicholas had forgotten.
: BAB05