The power went out with a sound like the air being swallowed.
One second, the room glowed gold from the single lamp by the bed; the next, darkness folded around me so fast it felt like I'd gone blind.
The storm outside had been building all evening. Now, it came down in furious waves, wind clawing at the shutters, thunder rattling the windows. I sat perfectly still on the edge of the bed, pulse thudding in my throat, the quiet hum of the world replaced by the scream of the sea and the frantic beat of rain on the roof.
"Rafael," I whispered before I could stop myself. His name felt strange in the dark — like it didn't belong to me anymore, like it belonged to the storm.
