By the time my arms grasped Imogen’s in the darkness, she was fully hyperventilating, and the sound of her gasping for air sent adrenaline sizzling through my veins.
“Do you know where the light switch is down here?” I whispered to her, rubbing her forearms in a soothing motion. I couldn’t see her face— just the outline of her even as my eyes adjusted to the thick darkness.
“You can’t turn on the light. They might see it from the cellar d-door,” she gasped out.
I gripped her forearms firmly. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“D-don’t like—“ she panted, “dark spaces.”
I felt for her shoulders, and when I found them, I pulled the small old woman in against my chest, hugging her tight. “It’s going to be okay,” I assured her. “I’m right here with you.”
As I held Imogen, trying to help her
