I press my shoulder against the heavy steel door, grunting in frustration as it slowly gives, inch by inch. When it’s open a couple of feet, the wind catches it and yanks the door from my hands, throwing it open. When I step out to grab it, the wind grabs hold of me, too, almost throwing me from the shelter.
“Tallulah! Pane!”
The sky’s become a steely gray. I can still see some, but soon I won’t be able to see at all. It’ll be me alone with pigs until the storm blows over.
Fighting the screaming wind, I step back into the shelter, my heart thundering against my ribs. I’m alone. Truly alone. It’s the one thing in life that I thought that I wanted—to be alone so that I could take care of myself. Now I realize how foolish that was.
I hate it. I can’t stand it. Here I am, facing down a line of tornadoes heading straight for us, and I don’t want any of it. I don’t want one piece of this. All I want is to be wrapped up safely in Pane’s arms, surrounded by my piggies.
If this is what it means to prove I can take care of myself—facing unimaginable destruction all alone—then I don’t want it.
I need someone, and it’s okay to admit that.
From my jeans pocket, I pull out my phone. There’s no service, no way to contact Pane and make sure that he’s okay.God, please let him be okay. I don’t ask for much, so please give me this.
No idea if he heard my request, but as I shut the shelter door behind me and slide down to the floor, my heart tightens.
Never in my life did I think it was possible to care about someone so much, to love them as much as I do Pane.
The piggycorns surround me, sensing my sadness.
I lower my head as they blot their wet snouts to my face. We’ve lost Tallulah, and I pray that Pane is safe. The only thing that could save my favorite little girl is a miracle.
I pull my knees up to my chin and exhale.Please, please let them be safe.
We sit in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the crunch of dried starfizz berries, the soft grunts of piggycorns eating, and the muffled whir of the screaming wind beyond the door.
Then a noise outside grabs my attention. It sounds like yelling. Then something snaps. Then more yelling. I glance up as the heavy metal door scrapes open.
The wind howls. Trees thrash violently. And in from the shadows steps Pane. He’s windblown; his hair sticks up in all directions, and his shirt is smudged with dirt and ripped in several places. But under one arm, he carries Tallulah, and behind him, he’s leading in Stella.
