“—storm system that has battered the coast for the past four days is finally clearing,” the announcer says. “Wind speedshave dropped significantly overnight, and while rain is expected to continue through this morning, the worst has passed.”
We all freeze.
The storm is clearing.
“Road crews are already assessing damage and beginning repairs,” the announcer continues. “Major routes should be passable in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, with full access restored by the end of the week.”
Tomorrow.
The roads could be clear by tomorrow.
Which means we could leave tomorrow.
I move to the window almost without thinking, reaching for the latch on the storm shutters. They resist at first, stiff from the salt spray and grit, but I force them open.
Gray light floods the kitchen.
The storm is still there, but it’s different now. The wind has calmed to a manageable level. The rain is steady but not violent. The ocean is still churning, but the waves aren’t the monsters they were before.
It’s almost over.
“Oh,” Sierra breathes from the table.
I turn to look at her and see my own realization reflected in her face. The understanding that this bubble we’ve been living in, this space outside normal time and rules and expectations, is about to burst.
Reality is coming back.
And with it, all the questions we’ve been avoiding.
What happens now? What does this mean? What are we to each other now?
The kitchen that felt warm and comfortable moments ago suddenly feels too small. Too quiet.
Cole sets the plate of eggs on the table, but no one moves to eat. We’re all just standing there, staring at the gray light filtering through the open shutters.
“So,” Malik says finally, his voice carefully neutral. “The storm’s clearing.”
“Yeah,” Sierra whispers. “It is.”
The tension in the room shifts. Tightens.
Changes into something none of us are quite ready to face.
But we’re going to have to, anyway.
Tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sierra
Breakfast tastes like cardboard in my mouth.
Well, no. That’s not fair. The eggs are actually perfect. They’re fluffy and seasoned just right, with cheese melted through and vegetables that still have a slight crunch. Cole clearly knows what he’s doing in a kitchen.
But I can barely taste any of it because my brain won’t stop screaming.
The storm is clearing.
