Chapter 9: Power Cut

The storm hit the hills at midnight and took out the power on the whole street.

I was in the kitchen with the lights dead and my phone at four percent.

I had come down for water.

I had also come down because the guest room had a smoke detector with a small black dot in it that I had not noticed before.

I heard the stairs creak.

"Mara?"

"In here."

Keith came in with a flashlight pointed at the floor.

He was barefoot in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, and his hair stuck up on one side.

I was holding a glass when the lightning flashed, and I flinched, and it slipped.

It broke in the sink.

I reached in to pick up the pieces, which was stupid, and a shard caught the heel of my palm.

"Don't touch it," Keith said.

"I already did."

Blood ran down my wrist and dripped on the tile.

He crossed the kitchen in two steps and took my hand in both of his.

He turned it over under the flashlight.

"Hold this."

He put the flashlight in my other hand and ran my palm under the tap, and I hissed.

"It's not deep," he said. "It needs a bandage."

He found the first aid kit in the pantry without turning on a light.

He sat me on the counter and stood between my knees, and he cleaned the cut with careful fingers.

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