Dawn breaks and spills the early summer sunlight on a restless Boo.

After her frustration peaked the night before, she'd stayed holed in her room until the coast was clear. Then she'd packed a bag and drove to her apartment, spending her inaugural night there in a bed with only one pillow and a skimpy blanket. She was incredibly, indescribably tired from expelling all her pent-up emotion in one dramatic burst, but any sleep she got wasn't enough.

Now, blinking into the unabated sun pouring in through the uncovered window, she feels the weight of her exhaustion. She groggily checks the time on her phone: 7:06 in the morning.

Below the time, her call log shows several missed calls from Nana, as well as a few random texts from Lori asking for money. Boo locks the screen and rolls over onto her stomach, clamping the pillow down over her head to try and block out the stifling morning light.

No sooner have her eyes fluttered shut than the doorbell rings and shatters the quiet morning.

"Lord have mercy," Boo grumbles into her sheets. She doesn't move a muscle, hoping the asshole ringing the doorbell at seven in the morning will take the hint and leave.

The bell chimes again, two times in short succession as her mystery guest grows impatient. Boo releases an ungodly noise of annoyance and tumbles out of bed, not caring how hellish she looks as she stomps to the front door and aggressively flings it open.

"What the f-" Her tongue nearly falls out of her mouth as she comes face-to-face with Martha. "Oh, hi, Nana."

"Good morning, Melita," Martha says genially. She holds up her hands to display the covered dish she's holding. "May I come in?"

Boo debates internally on how rude it'd be to slam the door shut. The hopeful look in her grandmother's eyes is enough to convince her that maybe she should make amends rather than burn more bridges. With a click of her tongue, she opens the front door wider and steps aside.

Martha grimaces as she steps inside; the living room is an eyesore, decorated only by a chaotic assortment of sealed boxes. "Lord, child, you need to organize this place."

"Why are you here, Nana?" Boo sighs, rubbing her eyes wearily as she pushes the door shut. It's too early to play the small talk game.

"I brought you breakfast," Martha says with a smile. "And an apology."

Boo chews on the inside of her lip and leans against the closed door. She nods once, gesturing for Martha to continue.

"I'm sorry about how you've been feeling," Martha begins, and already Boo doesn't like this apology. "I try very hard to make you feel a part of this town as much as I can, but I can only do so much. But you're right, we can't change people's opinions if they don't want to change them."

Boo opens her mouth to speak but Martha holds up a hand to stop her. Boo's speech melts away as a yawn emerges instead.

"However, my job is to protect you and I will continue to do so. You may not like the way I do things but I have my reasons. Next time you're feeling upset, we will talk about it like adults instead of yelling and crying like children."

Boo can't help the tired sneer that curls up on her lip. Instead of promising to get rid of Nathaniel, or telling Boo her frustration is valid, Martha's done what she's always done and chosen her duty to maintain a proper image over Boo's safety. Literally nothing Boo said the day before seems to have made any impression.

"Why are you making that face?" Martha asks exasperatedly. "I'm apologizing to you."

"No, you aren't," Boo groans. "You didn't listen to a word I said yesterday. I don't care what this town thinks, I don't care what people say because they are all small-minded but you, for some reason, continue to cater to that mindset."

"If you don't care then why do you keep bringing up what people say?" Martha asks, her thin fingers tightening around the container in her grip.

"Because of course it still bothers me sometimes," Boo explains. "I'm human and some of the things I hear are really twisted. But there's only so much I can do. I can't change what people think because I'd have to change myself to do that, and that's not something I'm willing to do."

Martha purses her lips.

"Aren't you more concerned with keeping me safe than you are about making this town happy?" Boo asks quietly.

For the first time in her life, Boo is beginning to have serious doubts about Martha's loyalty to her. Deep down she's been wondering if her presence holds as much meaning to her grandmother as Lori's seems to.

"Your safety is my first priority, don't you dare question that," Martha says defensively.

Boo runs a hand over her hair and shakes her head. "Well I wish you'd act like it," she answers. "I can't trust Lori and I don't really have friends here; you're all I have, Nana. I mean . . . why do you even care what people think?"

Martha steps closer to Boo, her face a painting of deep worry. If Boo didn't know any better, she'd say Martha looked scared.

"Reputation is everything in a place like this," Martha says in a low voice. "When anything happens in this town, people notice who's there and who isn't. Every opinion is built on what they see, not what is true."

"The smaller the town, the smaller the mindset," Boo echoes wearily, and Martha nods. Another tidbit of wisdom she's been spoon-fed for years.

Martha nods curtly. "It's extremely unfortunate, because they will never know the real you, but I don't include you in all these things to make you uncomfortable, honey, I would never want that. If you don't care what people say then continue not to care - people will always find a reason to say something hateful."

She places a wrinkled hand on Boo's cheek. "I include you so you can prove people wrong. So you can show them you're a person too, who is kind and compassionate and selfless."

Boo feels her eyes welling up and she can't help but laugh breathily. "It's too early to be this touchy-feely."

Martha cracks a smile and retracts her hand. The atmosphere around them feels lighter. "Agreed. You hungry? I brought you pancakes."

"Hallelujah," Boo cries, throwing her hands up to the ceiling. "I think I have utensils somewhere."

« • »

Four pancakes later, Martha and Boo are knee-deep in packing peanuts and cardboard boxes. So far, the only things assembled are the two-seater couch and the television, running softly in the background while the two women buzz around the apartment.

Suddenly, the screen flashes red and the theme song for JCTV, the local news channel, begins to chime. Martha looks up from the plates she's hand-washing while Boo stops digging through the box at her feet.

Ten seconds later, Garret Fordham's veneered smile appears on the screen. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, we're sorry to interrupt the normal programming but we have some urgent news regarding Hurricane Monroe."

Martha rushes out of the kitchen and joins Boo in the living room as Garret continues. "Our weather department has been closely monitoring the storm for any changes and yesterday, there was a major shift in many of the crosswinds affecting the storm clouds."

Garret's face drops and so does Boo's stomach. "Jack Creek, I am sorry to inform you that we have less than twelve hours until this storm hits. Please finish your preparations and get to a safe place as soon as possible. Shelters around the city will open in a few hours to accommodate those who need safety during this time."

"Twelve hours?" Boo shrieks, hands tightening around the edge of the box. Movement in her periphery tells her Martha's just crossed herself. "They can't be serious!"

Garret continues talking but Boo's ears are filled with the sound of her pulse quickening. She glances over to see Martha looking wide-eyed and equally as terrified.

"Nana," Boo says quietly. "What do we do?"

Martha's face flies through a series of emotions before she finally says, "We finish unpacking and then you'll come over for dinner. My house is safer than this ol' matchbox."

"Are you insane?" Boo cries. "There's a hurricane coming and you're worried about dinner?"

"Melita, I told you before I've been to this rodeo twice before," Martha says sharply. "We are going to be fine, so long as we stay indoors and don't go out once the storm is here. Understand me?"

Boo rubs her temples, knowing there isn't enough time to argue anymore. "Okay, Nana."

uh oh, shit is about to get wild. hope you're ready for the storm of your life :D

also have yall seen those new boxing photos of harry i'm DEAD. the man has literally killed me, r.i.p.