Chapter 42
The morning after the storm brought a deceptive, pale sunlight that filtered through the cracked kitchen window, illuminating the devastation. The mill was silent, save for the rhythmic drip-tap of residual rainwater hitting the plastic buckets. Julian was already awake, standing by the cold stove with his hands shoved into the pockets of a borrowed, oversized flannel shirt that had belonged to Siena’s father. The high-end espresso machine sat on the counter like a mocking monument to a life they had just renounced. It required electricity they didn’t have and beans that cost more than Siena’s weekly grocery budget. Julian didn't touch it. Instead, he was watching the driveway. "The ambulance will be here at ten," Julian said, his voice gravelly from lack of sleep. He didn't turn arou
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