75
One month before the Community
Nick’s uncle was in Shenzhen walking home from dinner when they reached him. He hadn’t heard of the fires but was glad they were safe at his house.
“Eat whatever you want, especially what’s in the freezer,” he said. “Who knows when the power will come back. The solar panels are wired to hit the lights and air conditioner first, probably not enough for the fridge.”
The four of them were crowded around the phone on the couch, faces illuminated in the glow. His uncle looked maybe sixty, well dressed, face unlined despite his age.
“Thanks,” Nick said. “Do you have flashlights? A lantern?”
“Under the sink,” he said. “And listen, we won’t be back until at least March. Stay as long as you want.”
March was six months away. It was generous, but Sara doubted
