The next morning, the rain is gone.
It's not a gradual easing, a slow diminishing of the storm's fury. It's an abrupt, absolute absence. The sky is a brilliant, cloudless blue, the sun a dazzling, golden orb that seems to burn away the last vestiges of the storm. The air is clean and crisp, smelling of damp earth and the salt of the sea.
It's the kind of day that makes me just a little suspicious of how nice it is.
But maybe I'm just the type to be suspicious of absolutely everything. I'm not sure I'm wrong for it.
May is the first one to notice. She's sitting by the window, her nose pressed against the glass, her breath fogging a small circle around her mouth. "The rain stopped!" She exclaims, her voice a cheerful squeak that echoes in the quiet room. "Auntie Diane! The rain stopped!"
