The storm had quieted by morning, but the silence it left behind felt heavier than the snow piled against the windows. Arielle woke with her heart already pounding, the way it did when a dream followed her into daylight. Except this time, it wasn’t a dream.
Everything that happened the night before replayed like cruel flashes—
The sirens.
The collapsing roof.
Noah pulling her out of the church doorway.
Her own shaking hands pushing him away.
The look on his face—hurt, confused, then gone.
She sat up quickly, breath fogging white in her cold bedroom. The power was still out. The house was too quiet. Too still. Too wrong.
She checked her phone. No messages from Noah. No missed calls. No sarcastic texts. Not even the little “Did you survive the night?” he always sent after a storm.
A
