The storm rolled in just as the grapes hung heavy and ready for harvest, a massive wall of dark clouds pressing low over the vineyard like a bruised ceiling threatening to collapse. The air had been thick and still all day, pregnant with the kind of electric tension that made the hair on Lila's arms stand at attention and sent Mercy pacing restlessly around the porch, whining at sounds only she could hear.
Lila stood on the wide wooden porch, one hand gripping the weathered railing, watching the first drops of rain strike the sun-baked earth with tiny puffs of dust. The drops were fat and sparse at first, scattered like coins thrown across the vineyard, but she could see the darker curtain of weather moving toward them across the hills, a gray wall that promised serious rain.
Within minu
