Somewhere downstream, floating its way toward Montana by now.
I sit up, hair sticking to the back of my neck, heart pounding like a drumline.
I have no money.
No ID.
No phone.
No way to call for help.
No one to call, really.
“F. M. L.,” I mutter into the dark, the words echoing softly in the room that suddenly feels too big.
I sink back into the mattress, blinking up at the ceiling, trapped in every possible way. I’m going to have to ask for help. Sam, maybe. But that feels complicated. And Phern? She doesn’t like me. That much is obvious. She’ll probably be thrilled to see me go. But will she actually help me get out of here? Or will she tell me to figure it out myself and shove me into the snow with a granola bar and a map?
Still, I can’t stay holed up in this room forever. I’ve already lost too much time and too much dignity.
I swing my legs off the bed and stand, muscles still sore but functioning. I cross to the door, brace myself, and open it.
The lights above flicker once.
And then?—
Total darkness.
From somewhere down the hall, I hear a sharp, indignant shout from Phern.
“No! I was right in the middle of a paper!”
I lean my forehead against the doorframe and sigh.
Perfect.
Now I get to ask for help and do it during a blackout.
I sigh, still standing in the doorway, squinting into the pitch black.
“Figures,” I mutter. “Of course the power would go out. Why not? Let’s add that to the list.”
I hear a soft shuffle of footsteps sounds down the hall. And then see a beam of light. Sam’s got a flashlight in one hand and a thick wool blanket tossed over his shoulder, his silhouette carved in soft edges by the glow.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low, eyes finding mine like it’s easy even in the dark.
“Fine,” I say quickly. “Just got startled when the power went out.”
He stops a few feet away, angling the flashlight toward the floor so it doesn’t blind me. “Generator’ll kick on soon, but it won’t power everything. We lose it a few times a year out here.”
I nod, trying to ignore the way the light makes his features look even more sculpted and untouchable.
“Phern sounded thrilled,” I add dryly.
That earns a soft laugh. “She’s probably halfway through a thesis. She likes to suffer academically.”
I smile in spite of myself, but then my chest tightens again. “Actually I was coming to find her.”
Sam shifts slightly. “Everything alright?”
