She waded down the hallway to the front of the shop, Winston at her side and Lucy on her back.
As she turned into the room, her gaze moved to her teapot shelf and the origin of the crash came into full focus. The shelf had collapsed, and shattered porcelain floated in various parts throughout the water, but most likely lay beneath the murky mess. One pot, a blue-and-cream one with tiny bluebells, was still intact, wedged against the partially collapsed shelf. One of her granny’s.
She’d rescued two of them. They were safe upstairs in her apartment.
But...
She stared at the teapot a moment, gauging whether she had time to grab it. And then she shook the thought away. No, there was no time, nor did she have a hand free to hold it.
Just then—thud. Something slammed against the shop’s front window with a deep, hollow knock, like a fist from the storm itself. Lucy whimpered at her ear.
“It’s all right. It’s probably just something floating outside.”
But whatever that something was...
They made it to the front door, and Daphne shoved against it, water both inside and out, holding the door in place. The pressure was too strong.
“Come on,” she whispered, leaning with her shoulder, gritting her teeth.
Then, with a sucking sound, it gave way.
A rush of water poured in, nearly knocking her backward. She grabbed the frame to keep her balance.
Okay, step one complete.
But the sight that met her nearly distracted her from step two.
Outside, Main Street was a river. To her left, the Ashbourne Riverhad taken over the lower street, up to the windows of Joe’s Filling Station, and there was no road leading into town. It was only... river.
The town looked like a ghost of itself—street signs half drowned, porch swings floating like driftwood, flowerpots bobbing like buoys.
She turned away from the sight and stepped onto what used to be a sidewalk, but with the mixture of mud and water, she couldn’t see it beneath her feet. She could only go by instinct. The pavement leading upward toward the church and the town hall was slick beneath her feet, completely obscured, but she could see pavement ahead where the rising water hadn’t fully reached yet.
She climbed a few slow steps against the rush of current. Winston paddled beside her, Lucy held tight to her neck, all of them quiet. Focused.
And then she heard her name from up ahead.
She looked up again, nearly losing her footing, her ankle twisting and pitching her forward.
“I’ve got you!”
A strong arm caught her. Jack.
Drenched, panting, mud up to his knees and hair spiraled into ringlets, he gripped her with one hand and Lucy with the other, anchoring them against him.
“Jack—” she gasped.
“Mr. Jack.” Lucy grasped onto him, relieving the weight from Daphne.
“Hey, bug.” He jostled her against his side, his grin not reflected in his eyes. “Waterlogged yet?”
Lucy’s grin flashed, brightening the moment a little. “I have on my jacket and hood.”
Then his grin grew. “Smart girl. Let’s get you outta here.” He gestured up the hill, gaze focusing on Daphne. “Truck’s at the top. I came to get you as soon as I could make it out of the inn safely. Treesare blocking roads everywhere, and I’ve been cutting through with my chainsaw for an hour.”
“I was just trying... to get—”
“I know.” He steadied her and nodded forward. “We’ve got to go. The main road’s washed out. Completely. No way in or out from that direction, and last I heard from the local police, most other roads into Wisteria are blocked too.”
