"We have a wonderful evening planned," Lily continued. "Performances from our talented students, a raffle with some truly amazing prizes, and a very special musical guest who's been kind enough to donate her time." She smiled. "But first, let's give our Year Two class a round of applause as they present their interpretation ofThe Very Hungry Caterpillar!"
The children tumbled onto the stage in their homemade costumes, construction paper wings, painted cardboard fruit, one very enthusiastic caterpillar made from what looked like green pool noodles taped together. They were chaotic andadorable and slightly off-key, and the audience loved every second.
Raven found herself grinning despite the nerves coiling in her stomach.
The evening progressed smoothly. Year Four did a surprisingly decent rendition of a scene fromMatilda. The raffle was drawn to much excitement. Gloria performed a dramatic monologue that went on approximately seven minutes too long but was met with polite applause.
And through it all, Annabelle darted around like a hummingbird, making sure everything ran on time, soothing nervous children, thanking volunteers. She caught Raven's eye once from across the room and smiled, tired but genuine, and something in Raven's chest went warm.
This was good. This was working.
Maybe everything really would be fine.
They were about to reach the half-way point when the lights went out.
For a split second, there was silence. Then chaos.
Children screamed. Parents called out, trying to find their kids in the darkness. Someone knocked over a chair. Gloria's voice rose above the din, shrieking something about health and safety.
"Everyone stay calm!" That was Lily, trying to project authority. "Don't move, just stay where you are until we figure out what's happened."
But panic was already spreading. Raven could hear it in the rising pitch of voices, the shuffle of movement as people tried to navigate in the pitch black.
She fumbled for her phone and turned on the torch, the small beam of light cutting through the darkness. Around her, others were doing the same, dozens of tiny lights flickering like fireflies.
"The fuse box," Arty was saying somewhere nearby. "Must've blown. I'll check…"
But Raven wasn't listening.
Because in the faint glow of phone lights, she could see Annabelle.
She was standing center stage, frozen, her face pale in the dim illumination. Her clipboard hung loosely in one hand. And her expression…
Raven had seen Annabelle tired. Overwhelmed. Stretched thin. But she'd never seen her look like this.
Defeated.
Shattered.
Like she was watching everything she'd worked for crumble to dust.
"Annabelle," Lily was saying, moving toward her. "It's okay. We'll fix this. We'll…"
But Annabelle just shook her head, silent.
And Raven understood.
This wasn't about the power. This was about everything. Weeks of planning, of organizing, of trying so damn hard to save the library and make everyone happy and fix everything that needed fixing. This was about Annabelle finally,finallyreaching the end of what she could do.
She couldn't fix this.
And she didn't know how to exist in a world where she couldn't make things okay.
Around them, the chaos continued. Children crying. Parents demanding answers. Gloria still shrieking. The careful order of the evening dissolving into confusion and noise.
Raven's hand tightened around her phone.
Annabelle stood there, alone in the dark, looking like her heart was breaking.
