Using the flashlight on her phone, she moved quickly through the living room, lighting a few candles and placing them on end tables. The wind howled louder now, and rain began to tap at the windows. She sat down, opened the dialer, and tried calling for the police for help.
No signal. She stared at the screen, then moved to another corner of the room. Still nothing—no bars, no connection. Her heart sank. No power, no service, and a dog stuck outside just as the storm was rolling in. She sat still, torn between fear and guilt.
The barking hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had grown more frantic—each burst echoing louder under the crack of nearby thunder. The dog must be terrified. Maya turned toward the window again, watching it twist and strain against the harness. Her hands trembled in her lap. She couldn’t just watch.
She exhaled shakily, then stood. “Alright,” she whispered to herself. Her legs weren’t as steady as they once were, but she walked to the door, unlatched it, and stepped outside, steeling her nerves. The air was heavy and still, with the scent of electricity already curling in the breeze.