“In case she needs us,” she explained.

Joseph looked at the map. The street that had felt divided for weeks was becoming connected again in his daughter’s imagination.

He hoped the adults could keep up.

Chapter 43: The Lights Go Out

The first hard gust arrived just after dinner, rattling the windows and sending a spray of leaves across the driveway. By nine, rain struck the roof with a relentless force that made conversation difficult. Joseph sat with Khloe in the living room while she read aloud from her astronomy book, pausing whenever thunder rolled overhead.

“Are storms bigger than planets?” she asked, attempting to connect two kinds of science.

“Not the whole storm,” he answered. “But some of the systems that create them are enormous.”

“That’s not comforting.”

He smiled. “Science isn’t always hired for comfort.”

At nine-seventeen the lights flickered once, recovered, and went out. The refrigerator fell silent. The television became a dark mirror. Khloe grabbed his hand, and Joseph switched on the flashlight he had left beside the couch.

“We’re okay,” he said. “We expected this might happen.”

They checked the interior of the house, keeping away from windows where branches moved violently against the glass. Joseph listened to the wind and the occasional dull thump of something striking a fence. He did not go outside. The utility company had warned residents to stay clear of damaged lines, and there was nothing in the yard worth risking injury while the gusts continued.

His phone rang. Mary.

“I’m all right,” she said before he could ask. “Power’s out. One of the big branches came down near my side gate. I can see it from the kitchen window.”

“Stay inside until the wind eases,” Joseph told her. “Do you see any wires near it?”

“I can’t tell.”

“Then please don’t go out. I’ll call the utility service and make sure the area gets checked.”

She agreed. Joseph made the report and told Khloe they would wait until morning to inspect the damage. She looked worried but accepted the plan. He set up a lantern on the dining table and made cocoa with warm water from a thermos he had filled earlier.

Across the hedge, the Harrington backup generator started with a low mechanical hum. A few exterior lights came on. The contrast between the dark Miller house and the illuminated glass building next door was almost comic.

Khloe looked out through the safe side of the window. “They still have electricity.”

“They have a backup system.”

“Maybe they have electric cocoa.”

“I expect their cocoa is very expensive.”

She laughed, and the tension in her shoulders eased.

A little after ten, Trent sent a message to the number Joseph had given the body shop. It was brief and awkward: Dad says your street side is dark. We have power if you need to charge phones. Mom has hot water. No pressure.

Joseph showed Khloe the message. “What do you think?”

She considered it. “It’s nice that he offered. But we have our own cocoa.”

“We do.”

He replied with thanks and said they were safe. It was a small exchange, insignificant enough to be forgotten by most people. To Joseph it was the first time Trent had contacted him without trying to make him react.

They settled on the couch beneath a blanket. When the strongest gusts arrived, Khloe drew close and asked Joseph to tell her a story about Sarah. He chose the time her mother tried to assemble a bookshelf backward and laughed so hard she couldn’t finish.

Outside, the storm continued. Inside, they waited together.

Chapter 44: The Fence Between the Houses

By morning the wind had dropped to a steady breeze. The neighborhood looked as if a careless giant had dragged a rake across the lawns. Leaves covered the sidewalks. Small branches lay in the road. A section of the Harrington fence had tipped toward Joseph’s yard, and Mary’s side gate was blocked by a fallen tree limb. A power line sagged near the end of the street, far enough away that nobody approached it while the utility crew worked.

Joseph checked on Khloe, then called Mary to confirm she was safe. She answered from her kitchen, irritated by the inconvenience but uninjured. He told her the branch would need to be assessed before anyone moved it, and she promised not to play hero with a garden saw.

At the property line, Richard stood in boots and a rain jacket studying the broken fence. Trent joined him carrying a pair of work gloves.

“Looks worse from this side,” Richard said when he saw Joseph.