You're down in the basement a little before seven, and the furnace isn't running. No hum, no air moving, nothing. You put a hand near the vent anyway, out of habit. Cold metal. The pilot light or igniter should have kicked it on by now, with the temperature dropping outside and that one upstairs room already colder than the rest. Dust hangs in the air where the light from the stairwell cuts through, settled and undisturbed, the kind of stillness that means the blower hasn't kicked on in a while. You can hear the house settling, the usual creaks, but nothing from the furnace itself. It just sits there, dark, while the room above it keeps losing ground.