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“I’m okay, honestly.”

Peter stared at her, his brow furrowed with worry as they climbed the steps toward the house. “What is that you’re wearing? You look like… the Little Prince.”

Liza laughed. “I do look like the Little Prince. I couldn’t quite figure it out. But that’s exactly right.”

Peter seemed puzzled at her cheerful answer and good mood. But before he could question her further, Claire stepped out onto the porch, holding a towel as big as a blanket. Liza, who was still damp and chilled, gratefully pulled the towel around her.

“Liza, we were worried about you,” Peter said, as they paraded into the house. “Where have you been?”

“Oh… I didn’t go too far,” she insisted.

A lightning bolt lit up the sky, and their conversation was interrupted by the big boom that followed.

“Where’s Jeff?” she asked, looking around.

“He and Daniel went out to look for you. Jeff came back after a while and waited around. But he finally left a few minutes ago,” Peter reported.

“Good.” Liza sighed, feeling relieved. “I’m going up to change my clothes.”

“You ought to take a hot shower,” Claire advised.

A hot shower was a great idea. A long hot shower.

“Where’s Daniel? Isn’t he coming in?” Peter opened the front door and looked out at the rain.

“He had to go home,” Liza said.

Peter closed the door. “Why didn’t he call and let us know you were all right?”

Liza paused at the bottom of the staircase. “We stopped at the tearoom in the town center. I guess we just forgot to call.”

Peter frowned. “Just forgot? That wasn’t very considerate. Daniel knew we were all worried about you,” he added, sounding like an anxious father.

Liza didn’t feel remotely like an errant teenager, but she didn’t want to turn this into a fight. “I’m sorry, Peter. It was my fault. I was afraid Jeff was still here. I didn’t want to see him.”

“I thought that might be the problem,” he said, his tone softening. “Daniel was a good sport to kill some time with you until the coast was clear.”

“Yes, a very good sport.” She started up the stairs, hoping her brother hadn’t noticed the smile that stretched across her face.

Liza took a hot shower and changed into clean, dry sweats and thick socks. Down in the kitchen she found Peter sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. It was late afternoon, almost time for dinner.

“Would you like some hot soup or some tea?” Claire asked.

Despite the shower and all the tea she’d had with Daniel, Liza still felt chilled.

“Some tea would be great. Thanks, Claire.”

“The water’s all ready.” Claire made the tea and set the mug down at her place, then lifted Liza’s wet hair and slipped a fluffy towel around her shoulders. “You don’t want to get your back all wet again,” she said quietly.

Liza tilted her head up and smiled at the housekeeper. She was so tired from her ordeal, she didn’t mind being waited on and fussed over.

The rain was falling steadily in gusty sheets that battered the house. Peter had been reading the paper and put it down after a particularly loud rumble of thunder. “I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean on a boat,” he said.

Liza smiled. “At least the house isn’t rocking from side to side.”

“Not yet,” he replied, raising his eyebrows as another loud crack of lightning illuminated the sky. “I hope you aren’t thinking of going home in this tonight,” he said to Claire. “The roads will definitely be flooded.”

“They were already pretty bad this afternoon,” Liza said. “You really have to stay over, Claire.”

“Yes, I’ll stay the night,” Claire agreed. “That’s what my room on the third floor is for.”

“Don’t bother cooking a big dinner, Claire,” Liza added. “We’ll just have sandwiches or leftovers.”

Will came into the kitchen then, earbuds draped around his neck. “This storm is fierce,” he said. “I tried to text Sawyer, but nothing’s going through.” Sawyer, Liza had learned, was one of Will’s friends in Tucson. “Think it will be over in an hour?” he asked his dad.

Peter shook his head. “No, this isn’t like a monsoon back home. The storms here can last for days.”

Will shot him an alarmed look. “Days?”

Peter looked about to reply when a huge crack of lightning streaked across the sky. The entire room grew very bright for a long moment, then they heard the thunder, which seemed to shake the entire building.

They all held their breath as the lights in the house flickered… then went out.

“That did it,” Peter grumbled, putting down his newspaper once and for all.

“The power’s gone out,” Claire said.

The room was completely black. Liza could barely see her hand.

“This is cool. Sort of like a fun house,” Will declared.

“It’s not going to be much fun if it stays this way,” his father pointed out. “There’s not a lot we can do in the dark.”

“There’s nothing to do around here anyway. What’s the difference?” Will asked.

Sarcastic but true, Liza thought.

“We may be without electricity, but we’re not without light,” Claire said. “I’ve gathered some flashlights and candles.” She made her way over to the kitchen counter behind Liza and picked up something. Liza heard metallic sounds. Then a powerful beam of light glowed. It was a large camping lantern. Claire set it in the middle of the table and then picked up a smaller flashlight, which she handed to Liza.

“Thanks, Claire,” Liza said. “Good thing you thought ahead and had those handy.”

“Okay, we have some flashlights. What now?” Peter asked.

Liza was about to answer, but before she could, a loud knock sounded on the door.

They all turned to look at one another.

“Who could that be?” Liza asked, wondering.

“I’d better get it.” Peter rose and picked up one of the other flashlights on the counter.

“Can I come?” Will asked, rising in his chair.

“You stay here,” his father commanded. “Let me see who it is first.”

“Who do you think it is, Dad… Dracula?” Will asked.

“Very funny,” Peter grumbled, as he checked the light and stalked off. Though from the expression on his face, Liza wondered if he did expect a scary visitor of some kind.

Then she heard Peter open the door and heard him talking to someone, a man’s voice.

Maybe it’s Daniel, she thought. Maybe the route back to his house was flooded, so he had to turn around and come back here.

She secretly readied herself for Daniel’s appearance. But her heart soon flipped from unexpected cheer to unexpected dread. She did recognize the visitor’s voice. It wasn’t Daniel. And she might have welcomed Count Dracula more.

“Jeff is here,” Peter called out from the foyer. “The bridge was flooded. He couldn’t cross.”

Liza walked into the hallway and stopped. Jeff stood at the front door, slipping out of his wet leather jacket. His hair and pants were wet, too. He glanced at her with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry. I rode around the island for a while after I left here, just to take a look.”

Looking for me, Liza filled in silently. She was glad she had gone to the cemetery. Jeff would never have guessed she was there, even if he had driven right by. It almost felt as if her aunt had protected her from him out there.

“The rain started and I wasn’t thinking,” Jeff went on. “But by the time I got to the bridge, it was closed. I didn’t realize that’s how they run things here.”

That wasn’t how any group of people on the island ran things. It was the way nature ran things. But Liza didn’t try to explain that to him.

Claire stepped past Liza and handed Jeff a towel.

“Thank you,” Jeff said sincerely. He wiped his face, then rubbed his hair.