I moved instantly, stepping into the kitchen with a smile plastered on my face like nothing had happened. The room smelled of sausages and fruit. Hudson and Daniel stared at me, startled, their eyes wide and unsure.
“Good morning,” I echoed, still smiling. “Phew, looks like a big storm is boiling out there.” I nodded toward the window.
Outside, the sky had turned a strange shade of grayish-black. Clouds hung heavy and low, bruised and rolling like they were angry.
I made my way past them to the coffee maker and slipped a pod into place. The machine sputtered to life with a low hum, hissing steam as it brewed. The scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, sharp and cozy. Mochi repeated good morning a few more times from my shoulder like the perfect alibi.
“The weather forecast said this storm will be really bad,” I said casually, picking up the mug once the coffee had filled it halfway. I added some milk from the fridge before taking a sip. Bitter. Hot.
Hudson and Daniel exchanged a quick glance. I pretended not to notice.
“Honey, I wanted to talk to you about the storm,” Daniel began.
“Thank God we’re in a house like this,” I cut in, still cheerful. “It feels so much safer inside a real stone building. Was that a generator I saw out back? Does it kick on automatically when the power goes out?”
Daniel ran a hand through his hair. Clearly, he was frustrated.
“It might not be safe out here during the storm.” Hudson jumped in to rescue him. “It would be better if you and Daniel left before it gets really bad in a few hours.”
I waved him off. “That’s sweet of you to worry, Hudson, but I feel pretty safe here.”
“It’s not, Emily,” Daniel said, his voice sharper now. “Storms out here on the coast can be brutal. And this one’s expected to cause serious damage on the mainland. If something happens, help could take hours, maybe days, to reach us. Especially when the waves start crashing over the road that leads back to the mainland.”
“Rescue could take just as long on the mainland,” I countered. “We lost power in Maryland once during a storm at my grandma’s house. It took over a week to get it back. If the rain gets any worse, it won’t be safe to drive on the highway either.” I nodded toward the window, where the first drops were hitting the glass with soft taps, like the storm had decided to argue on my side.
“You could stay at a hotel in town,” Hudson offered.
“Yeah, we could,” I said lightly. “But why would we do that when we have a solid stone house with a backup generator?”
Daniel moved to the kitchen island and gripped the back of a chair with both hands. His knuckles turned white. “We need to leave, Emily. Remember my parents and what happened to them—”
“I’m sorry, Daniel,” I interrupted, calm but firm. “I know that must be hard for you, but I don’t think I can take on more trauma talk right now. Not with everything I’m already working through. And I don’t like the thought of leaving Hudson here.”
Daniel’s grip on the chair tightened, silent and shaking. “Emily,” he mumbled.
“I’ll be fine,” Hudson said.
“Then we will be too.”
“Emily, we’re leaving the Breakers.” Daniel’s voice now sounded like a threat. Dangerous.
“Youcan,” I said calmly. “But I’ll stay here.”
“Emily,” Hudson tried again, his tone anxious. “Please listen to Daniel. It’s really not safe here during a storm like this.”
“I think it’ll be fine.” I met his eyes and held his gaze. “Or is there something else I should know?”
Daniel stared down at the table, his jaw tight, his knuckles white against the wood. He looked like he was wrestling with something that didn’t want to come out.
“Daniel,” Hudson warned.
Something shifted. I didn’t know exactly what, but I felt it. It was the crack of an opening. I knew my husband. He was hiding something. The question was: Was he trying to protect me, or was he trying to protect others from me? Was I the danger in this house? The one no one wanted to be trapped with once the storm cut us off?
I stepped forward, my eyes still locked on Hudson. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Nobody answered.
Hudson’s gaze stayed on Daniel. “Daniel, don’t,” he said.
