Night visitor

Sometime in the middle of the night I heard a noise in my room. It was the sound of my door opening slowly and soft footsteps. Unsure of who the intruder was, I reached for the old kitchen knife I always kept on the floor under my bed.

I waited, and the footsteps came closer. They stopped at the end of the bed, which I thought was odd, as nothing of value was at that end of the room. I felt a hand touch my leg, and slowly caress it through the blanket. I relaxed. It had to be one of the girls. But which one?