The wind howled outside the window, rattling the panes like it was desperate to be let in. Rain pelted the glass, harder now, like nature was throwing a tantrum. The sky cracked open in a roar of thunder, shaking the walls, and Avery stood still in the dim kitchen, flashlight in one hand and her phone in the other, which was now practically useless.
Cheryl’s last text had come an hour ago—Hope the power doesn’t go out! Stay dry. Love you.
Too late for that. And love you too, Cheryl, but next time maybe stay home when there’s an actual tornado warning on the news.
Avery glanced at the flickering candle on the counter. “You’ve got one job,” she whispered to it. “Don’t die on me.”
She hated the silence more than the darkness. It was too heavy, too full of the thoughts she’d been trying no
