Mark buried yet another body beneath a towering snowdrift. The ground had long since frozen solid, making it impossible to dig graves now. The dead would have to rest in the snow, at least until the storm stopped—if it ever did. He squinted into the harsh wind, seeing nothing but snow.

As he worked, he wondered what Jason was up to. The two had never been big on teamwork, but the last he heard, Jason had headed to the power plant with a small group of people. He had a high rank, while Mark had none, so they couldn't really do anything together.

Shivering, he trudged through the thick snow toward Burger King. The door, crusted with ice, refused to budge when he tried to open it. Finally, he yanked it open.

Inside, it wasn't any warmer. Shelves had been stripped clean. The air smelled like stale fries, making his stomach rumble.

Nelson sat in a booth near the front, arms folded tightly, staring out the window. "How are things?" he asked without turning.

Mark collapsed into the seat across from him with a groan. "Rough, man. People are dropping like flies. And we still don't have hydro."

Nelson shivered, pulling his coat tighter. "Any idea what's causing this? The sickness, I mean."

Mark shrugged. "Hanna hasn't ruled anything out, but we call it ID, or inflammatory death."

It was hard to believe he hadn't gotten sick yet. The air was biting cold, and he was nursing a cold, but at least he wasn't coughing up blood or, worse, chunks of his own body.

"How's business going?" Mark asked.

Nelson let out a dry laugh. "Unpopular since the blizzard started. I'm pretty sure I've seen a child go flying in the wind."

"You don't want to see the infirmary, dude. It's basically a maze," Mark said.

When he was in the infirmary, every time he tried to step over to grab buckets or another dead body, someone would vomit on his boots. It was like clockwork—boots cleaned, boots ruined. He wasn't sure how he was keeping it down, but he presumed it was because of low food.

Just as he was about to stand, the building shook violently. Both of them froze, wide-eyed. This wasn't the kind of rumble Mark expected from his dad's truck—this was a bone-rattling tremor that made the walls groan and the floor as though it might collapse.

Both of them stared wide-eyed as the chaos unfolded around them. Pieces of drywall cracked and crumbled, sliding down the walls. Chairs skidded across the floor, screeching as they collided with each other. Tables tipped over with everything on them spilling all over the ground.

"Is someone shaking it?" Nelson panicked.

Mark pointed upward. "Dude, the ceiling is gonna collapse!"

Nelson spun around as small tidbits of debris began raining down. Without hesitation, he rushed to the back of the building, calling out to some people.

Mark stood frozen, his eyes locked on the ceiling. A crack began to form, snaking across the surface until it split into the shape of a cross.

For a split second, everything seemed to hold its breath—then, with a deafening roar, the ceiling didn't collapse. It flew off as some invisible force yanked it away.

He put his scarf and hood up automatically, snow blowing into the place. The icy air stung his cheeks, and the room was now a blur of white.

Through the chaos he heard a muffled shout: "We're coming!" He squinted, trying to make out people in the snowy haze.

Moments later, Nelson stumbled into view, dragging a young boy and girl along with him.

"You can't fall at all," Mark warned.

Together, they stumbled their way out of the building. Once they were a distance away, they turned back to watch the walls fold in on themselves. It was as if it were made of paper and someone had blown on it.

"Now, where do we go?" Nelson panicked.

"Party Culture," Mark said.

They stumbled their way forward. The door of Party Culture whipped open, and they slipped inside, locking it behind them. A handful of people sat in the cold place, shivering and sneezing, their breath visible in the frosty air. People weren't just getting sick from ID, but from the cold.

"Nevaeh?" Nelson called, ambling around behind the counter.

"She went somewhere," someone called. "With a girl who seemed drunk."

"Preston and Mia," Nicole Anderson said.

Mark knew Preston, but not Mia. Someone in his class in Ohio had been named Mia, but she transferred one year before him.

Suddenly, there was loud banging on the door. Mark yanked it open, and there stood Nevaeh. Beside her were Vince and a stumbling girl.

Nevaeh glanced over at Nelson, her brows slightly furrowed. "You good, Nelson?"

"Burger King blew down," Nelson said.

Mia burst into laughter with a dazed smile. "Did you blow on it?" she asked dumbly. "Wait, is Emma awake? And hold up—aren't you Jason's friend?"

"Yuh," Mark said.

"Mia, you can't flash every person you meet," Vince pestered.

She turned back and stuck out her tongue. "You're jealous that you can't have my body," she said.

Nevaeh took a seat at the counter, resting her elbow on the surface. "Wait, did Burger King actually blow down from the storm?" she asked.

Nelson nodded, his expression slightly serious. "Yeah, the ceiling started crumbling, and then it just flew off," he explained.

Mark had witnessed buildings and houses collapsing, often due to trees falling into them. This was different. Burger King looked as if it had been pushed down—like someone shoved it.

Mia started brushing off snow from her purple hat. The room was dimly lit, with only faint traces of light filtering through the place. Without warning, she lifted her hoodie, revealing her chest in the dark room. Even in the near-darkness, Mark could see her body.

"See, I have a nice body," she said with a wink, pulling her hoodie down.

"Isn't it acting more like a slut?" Nevaeh asked.

Mia wore a goofy smile, unfazed. "Cassie was a slut because she slept with half the student population at Uden. Scarlett is one too for hitting on boys that had girlfriends. Me? I just enjoy flashing people. It's funny."

"And Burger King just blew over?" Nevaeh asked.

"Yeah, but what's happening at the power plant?" Mark remarked.

Mia jumped into the conversation. "Luke lost his noodle arm. Jason showed up with Jade, but half the building's destroyed. Oh, there was a water leak, and the ice cracked."

Mark didn't realize how much had been happening. All he knew was what had been happening in town. With the hydro out and the power plant seeming destroyed, was there even a possibility for hydro?

"We left because Mia fell down the stairs again," Nevaeh sighed, shrugging with a smirk. "Are you going to stick around here?"

"We can't get our things out because of the snow. Whenever it stops," Nelson said.

Mark didn't know when the blizzard would stop. Nobody could predict the forecast for however long they were going to be stuck here. Did they have months or years left? From what he knew, they wouldn't survive this storm for two months.

"I say we just get high," Mia suggested, sticking up a thumb. "It's still considered a party, just in the dark."

Mia seemed like a partygoer who didn't care about anything that was going on around her. She seemed to know everything that could be associated with one and what actions to take.

"I should tell that housewife I flashed her boyfriend," Mia snickered.

"You actually flashed him?" Nevaeh laughed.

Mia shrugged, her grin widening. "Eh, why not? Besides the housewife is so uptight about everything."

Mark had noticed the shift in Bella's personality. He once asked if Jason wanted to go to Party Culture, but the two were bickering because she thought he'd make him get drunk. The whole thing caught him off guard because he thought they were on cool terms.

"Maybe she's just protective." Mark suggested.

"Nobody likes overprotective girlfriends," Mia mumbled, wiping her chin. "They're annoying and needy. He should just break up with her."

Cindy then appeared in the room with Esme, searching around. "We cut off the noodle arm!" Esme beamed.

"Quite a difficult task," Cindy spat.

"Are you going back to the power plant afterward?" Nevaeh asked.

"We probably should see Emma," Esme said, looking around the place.

As she spoke, Mark noticed Esme wipe away some of the blood from the large gash that ran across her face. The wound looked brutal—like someone had taken a strip of thick tape, pressed it horizontally across her cheek, and yanked it off, taking a layer of skin with it. The wound was just below her eye and landed just before her jawline.

Cindy wasn't looking much better. Her neck bore the marks of what looked like whiplashes, and blood dripped from the slashes in her coat. Her cheek was flushed and swollen as if she'd been slapped hard enough to leave a lasting impression.

Esme grinned, raising a fist confidently. "Relax, it's no big deal. These make us look totally badass."

"By the way, Emma is at your house," Nevaeh said.

Cindy quite literally slammed her forehead against Esme's. Mark was surprised that Cindy was using physical actions to show her irritation, considering she used to never do so.

"Ow! What the heck?" Esme yelped, rubbing her forehead.

Cindy shot her a deadpan look. "You mentioned Emma might be here."

"I said she could," Esme explained.

Cindy gripped Esme's wrist, bopping away.

James stood in the centre of the power plant, dazed, swaying slightly on his feet. Three days of nonstop work had blurred the edges of his mind. His body screamed for sleep, but he knew the second he gave in, Greyson would snap at him.

Greyson stood nearby, one hand on his hip, his eyes fixed on the cracked sheet of ice running up the silver pipe. He hadn't slept much either, but it didn't seem to slow him down. His relentless need for answers made the air feel heavier, and it was exhausting in its own way.

Somewhere deeper in the buildings, Luke had wandered off to torment Jason, who had lost his whip arm after Esme and Cindy chopped it off.

"What do we do next?" Greyson asked, staring impatiently at him.

When Greyson went to sleep, it felt like some weight had been lifted. He wasn't constantly over his shoulder, asking questions about what to do next.

"Now that this sections cracked, we have to break the ice inside without damaging the pipe itself," James slid.

"How do we do that?" Greyson demanded.

James glanced at the in-pipe. "We need a small hole. It has to be done quickly due to that hole you and Jason both created."

"Henry, give me the drill," Greyson barked.

Henry stumbled forward like a drunk. His skin had gone pale, almost translucent under the icy light, and his lips were tinged a deep blue. Every breath he drew came in shuddering gasps, his fingers trembling so violently that the drill wobbled in his grip.

James felt a spike of alarm. It was clear now—Henry was on the verge of hypothermia. The signs were too obvious, especially after he'd fallen in that freezing water earlier.

"A-Are we almost done?" Henry stammered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. "I... I can't feel anything."

"Does it look like we're done?" Greyson snapped, yanking the drill from him. Using a telekinetic force, he sent Henry sprawling to the floor.

The drill roared to life, its high-pitched whine echoing through the room as Greyson leaned over the pipe. Sparks flew from sharp bursts, showering the ice in jagged arcs of light.

James stepped back, stomach tightening. Every spark made him jump—he kept imagining the pipe splitting, the whole system collapsing, everything he worked for gone.

"Is it working?" Greyson called out, eyes squeezed shut.

"Maybe open your eyes and look," Scarlett mocked.

James forced himself to check. "Slowly it is."

Greyson cracked one eye open to watch the drill bite into the ice.

A sharp scraping echoed behind James. He turned quickly and caught sight of Jade sliding toward them, arms pinwheeling for balance.

Before he could speak, a sharp crack split the air. A shard of ice whipped past his shoulder, and narrowly missed the drill.

Greyson reacted instantly. With a flick of the hand, he sent her sideways with a telekinetic force. She slammed into the darkness completely with a thump.

James had one bad feeling that Greyson or Jason might break this pipe completely. That would mean no hydro at all until this all ended.

The drill sputtered to a halt, jamming into the ice. Greyson gritted his teeth, looking around. "I'm just going to yank it," he stated.

James went to protest, but Greyson yanked it out. Staring down, they spotted the small hole still visible. Through it, you could see the covered ice as Greyson grinned.

"We have to chip at it through that hole," James implied.

"Screwdriver!" Greyson snapped at Henry.

Henry blinked, his eyebrows knitted together. "The what?"

"The screwdriver," Greyson repeated, as Henry didn't move for a moment. "Scarlett," she stood and grabbed the tool, glancing at Henry.

"Is he wasted?" Scarlett asked, handing the screwdriver to him.

Before Greyson could respond, a loud clash echoed in the hallway. "Get back here!" James heard Luke's voice roar.

Jason burst into the room, skidding on the icy floor like a cartoon character. He managed to stay upright for all of two seconds before his feet flew out from under him, and he landed in a heap on the ground.

Scarlett burst out laughing, "Grand entrance."

James shifted towards Henry, who was sprawled on the ground, completely unconscious. His chest wasn't moving. His lips were grey.

A hollow panic punched James in the gut. Henry looked wrong, like the cold had reached inside him and shut everything off.

James's fingers shook as he pressed them to Henry's wrist. Nothing. No flutter. No warmth.

"There's no pulse!" James blurted out.

"What?" Greyson snapped, spinning around. "Why doesn't he have a pulse?"

"We need to start CPR," James rushed. "Or he will die."

He'd never done CPR before. He'd only seen it done once, back at Uden, when a kid nearly drowned in his gym class.

"Anyone know that?" Scarlett asked.

"I do," Jason's voice rasped.

"Of course you do," Greyson mimicked.

Jason slowly went to Henry with his arms hanging and bags under his eyes. When he crouched down, James turned his back away.

"Uh... it's not working," Jason said.

"Then try again," Greyson snapped.

James watched Jason press his hands harder onto Henry's chest. It didn't work. Henry remained lifeless, his wet clothes clinging to his body.

"It wouldn't work anyway. He had wet clothes, and this blizzard," Scarlett stated.

Without a word, Greyson extended his hand. Henry's limp body rose slowly. Water dripped in steady ticks from Henry's clothes, each drop louder in the cold silence.

Greyson studied Henry's lifeless face for a moment. Then, with a controlled flick of the wrist, he sent Henry's body drifting through the hole in the wall and out of sight.

"Just a henchman," he said casually, crouching down to quickly chip at the ice.

Jason loomed over Greyson, his hands glowing faintly as he held them above Greyson's head. "Stop whatever you're doing," he spat.

"You know, if you shoot at me, you'll break the pipe," Greyson said with a cold smile.

"It's just a pipe," Jason spat.

"Don't tell him, James," Greyson demanded. "Do you understand how to turn on the electricity?" Jason shook his head. "That's why I'm turning it on at Uden Academy only."

Jason's glare intensified, but neither of them moved. Just as it seemed they were locked in a standoff, a loud whoosh cut through the silence. A hammer came flying out of nowhere, spinning in the air like a deadly frisbee.

Everyone scrambled to get out of the way. The hammer smashed into the pipe with a deafening clang. The force of the impact sent them all flying.

River Dunlop couldn't help but feel out of place around people of his own age. Some did whatever they pleased, and there was one boy who let people see their darkest fears through illusions.

According to them, he was some kind of highlighter that shone with golden light. He was surrounded by many, just like the crowds that would watch him on stage.

"You honestly have never been around people your own age?" someone asked.

The only time he was around people his own age was during the few modelling shoots he did with people his age.

"Why not just talk to people?" another asked, reaching for his arm.

River flinched before her fingers even made contact.

"We're back!" Mia flung her hand in the air, grinning wide, almost too bright for the moment.

"Greyson and them still aren't back?" Maverick grumbled.

It had been a few hours since the power plant incident. He still didn't know where else to go, so he decided to stay at Uden.

Nevaeh sauntered over and crouched in front of him with a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. "How's our highlighter?" she teased.

"You're more of a star than a highlighter," Mia added, stumbling toward him with a grin.

River didn't smile. He watched Nevaeh's smirk flatten, her eyes flickering with something unreadable.

Everything still felt off too him; being here, around people who laughed like nothing was wrong. He wasn't sure how to respond, or if he was even supposed to.

"I'm not famous," he murmured. "But my mom is."

The words hung in the air longer than they should have.

He glanced down at his hands. They used to hold passports, designer outfits, contracts. Now they shook when he thought about going to the cottage.

For years, he'd been homeschooled while modelling and travelling for different shows in Paris and Germany.

A few months ago—after he fainted on a runway in Berlin—they pulled him out and sent him to Uden Academy.

"Have you just been staying there?" Nevaeh asked as he nodded.

"Let's go touring!" Mia exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

Maverick shot her a glare.

"At Uden, duh," she added, grinning.

River hesitated, then stood and followed them. Mia twirled a lock of her ombré hair—dark brown at the roots, fading into blonde at the tips—as she bounced ahead.

"These are all the classrooms and whatever," Mia said, gesturing vaguely as they walked. "We'll go to the dorms because I need to change."

They reached the girls' dormitory. Some people bundled together under blankets, while others paced in the halls, muffled in oversized snowsuits.

Mia led them up a wide staircase. The second floor was colder, the air heavy and dark, like a horror movie hallway.

She stopped at a door and twisted the handle open.

The room glowed from his power. Photos and pictures covered the white—some of Mia with people River didn't recognize, except for Bryce.

"Can't risk them finding out," Mia said with a sly grin.

She shrugged off her coat, tossing it on the floor, followed by her hat.

Then she reached for the hem of her shirt.

River jerked back before he could stop himself. Heat crawled up his neck and sank heavy in his stomach. His throat tightened until breathing felt optional. He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath stuttering like it had forgotten to move.

"Dude," Mia said flatly. "You can open your eyes. I'm not stripping to my birthday suit."

His breath came shallow as he cracked opened one eye. The glow of his power caught on her bare shoulders, and something in his stomach turned. He looked away fast, fixing his eyes on the far wall where the light didn't reach.

"It's freezing," she muttered, tugging on a long sleeve. "I hate wearing long sleeves over hoodies. It's suffocating."

River said nothing. The silence stretched on.

Mia flopped back on her bed, patting the spot beside her. River slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking around the room.

Nevaeh rummaged through Mia's things, pulling out a lace bra and holding it up to the light.

"These are hot," she said with a grin.

River's breath stalled in his chest. The delicate lace caught the light, and something inside recoiled violently. His hands turned numb, curling into his palms.

The air thickened, sweet with perfume and dust, and suddenly it wasn't Mia's dorm anymore. His pulse thudded in his ears, faster and faster, drowning out the laughter.

He looked away sharply, nails digging into his palms. His stomach twisted hard, his body remembering what his mind refused to.

"Stole them from a mall in Toronto," Mia said casually. "Highlighter, you're acting like Emma. All jumpy and nervous. You want a drink or something?"

River shook his head immediately.

No alcohol.

No drugs.

No losing control.

Those rules were drilled into him, just like the rules about weight, posture, and not talking back. If he spiralled, he knew no one would catch him.

Nevaeh leaned in slightly. "I heard your secret."

River went completely still.

She couldn't know. She couldn't possibly know that.

"I won't say," she added with a shrug, "but yikes."

Mia immediately perked up. "Tell me!" she whined. "You can't just drop that and leave me hanging!"

River's voice came out small. "What?"

His stomach twisted. The last thing he wanted was anyone knowing what happened, especially that secret.

Nevaeh smirked wider, shaking her head. "I can't spill all the secrets I hear," she said slyly.

Mia groaned, dragging the mirror off the nightstand.

"My nose still has dried blood," she complained. "I hope Greyson gets the hydro back on. I literally need to take a shower."

River knew one place that had hydro: the cottage.

But he couldn't go back.

It didn't matter that the cottage had food, warmth, running water. Comfort meant nothing.

The place felt wrong.

Not haunted.

Just wrong.

"Ugh, can this storm stop already?" Nevaeh groaned, flopping into Mia's purple beanbag. "I'm forgetting what a real party looks like."

"Please," Mia snorted, hanging upside down off her bed. "You know what would be funny? Someone having a baby here."

River stiffened.

Not from the joke—but the word.

It scratched at something buried deep inside of him. Panic flared in his chest, bile rising bitter at the back of his throat.

He didn't know why the word baby hit like a grenade.

No.

He pushed the thought down hard.

"That'd be both scary and amazing. People die in this place, but it never grows," Nevaeh stated, then narrowed her eyes.

"Imagine if it were a scandal!" Mia and Nevaeh exclaimed, pointing fingers at each other.

"Scandals are amazing," Nevaeh said with a grin.

River felt a knot in his stomach.

He knew better. Scandals aren't amazing—not when you're the victim.

It had been almost a year since his mother assaulted him.

Since then, her voice had haunted every mistake—every wrong look, every slip of control.

He knew he couldn't tell anyone. Who would believe the model kid with an eating disorder?

Being super rich came with its perks. But when you're a model, maintaining that perfect body is paramount.

For him, it was a constant struggle.

If he ate too much, he corrected it.

No junk food.

No snacks.

No mistakes.

His life revolved around keeping the perfect body and the assault a secret.

"I have to ask a weird question..." River started. "Have you ever been confused about yourself?"

"I was in the sixth grade when I kissed a girl and a boy. I didn't understand why I liked both of them. I told my parents the day they found my drugs and shipped me off to Simcoe from Mendoza," Mia said.

Argentina to Canada as a sixth grader was insane. No, it wasn't just that, but she had illegal drugs in the sixth grade. Why did she even have them in the first place?

"At Uden there was this class on sexuality. Since you can't date at Uden, they embrace everyone's sexuality. If someone found out or caught you, it often led to bullying." Mia rambled, shooting him a smirk and a wink. "People still date, though."

"Any juicy stories?" Nevaeh asked.

"Collin and David got caught making out in the showers after a gym class. Someone named Dylan caught them and told Scarlett," Mia implied.

River had heard the name Scarlett frequently. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on her—how stunning she'd looked, but how cold and cruel she could be.

"I think she taunted Collin," Mia said. "He was part of the vanished, and David killed himself. Is that what you mean?"

"It's like... I'm scared to get involved with people but want to," River murmured.

It wasn't about romance or anything like that. It was more about forming real, meaningful relationships. He had spent most of his life in the modelling world—isolating and superficial. He hadn't had friends growing up, so the idea of forming those connections felt uncertain.

"Talk to Emma," Mia started. "The healer!"

River watched as Mia sprang to her feet, almost sending her tumbling over the white carpet in her dorm room.

"She'll be at her house with Esme," Nevaeh stated.

River followed the two girls out of the dorms and the storm. The drive back to Simcoe was swallowed in snow, wind howling as it shoved the car across the icy road.

"Maybe she'll heal my nose," Mia muttered.

They stopped outside a small house. The group stumbled out of the car, clumsy and hurried, and pushed open the door. The inside felt cozy, but it was much smaller than the cottage.

"Bryce!" Mia screeched, flinging the door open.

A book threw across the room and smacked her in the face.

"You're noisy," Bryce said, grinning as he leaned in the wall.

Esme darted into the hallway, a white bandage over her collarbone.

"You're injured?" she asked, eyes flickering to Mia's face.

"Mia, you're irrelevant," Bryce sneered. "How many times have you hit your nose on the wall?"

"It's still fun," she said, rubbing her now-reddened nose. "Anyway, this dude actually wants to see Emma."

The group trailed into the living room. Cindy sat crossed-legged in an armchair, while Emma curled up on the couch, eyes unfocused, lids drooping like she hadn't slept.

She didn't speak at first. Just blinked.

"I'm not healing your nose, Mia," Emma mumbled.

"Not for me!" Mia said. "Highlighter wants to talk to you."

Nevaeh leaned on the wall. "It's not healing stuff, but talking."

River hovered near the entrance, frozen.

Maybe he made a mistake of coming here.

Cindy glanced at Nevaeh, then at Emma, and slipped out without a word.

"Have you ever... been, I dunno, confused? About your feelings?" he asked quietly.

Emma froze. Her eyes lifted slowly, widening not in fear, but in recognition.

Across the room, Bryce leaned against the wall with a smirk.

"Yeah..." Emma said softly. "I have."

River nodded once, eyes fixed on the carpet. "Were you ever scared? Or jealous?"

Silence pressed in.

He didn't explain the rest—how every compliment about his mother tasted bitter in his mouth.

They saw glamour.

He saw something else entirely.

Emma's eyes shimmered. "Both..." she whispered. "Why?"

The question hung between them like cold air.

River hesitated.

This wasn't small talk anymore. This was skin and scars.

"I'm confused," he said quietly. "Not just about... that. About everything."

The word felt too small for what he meant.

Bryce knelt beside Emma, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. She hid her face, shoulders curled inwardly.

He laughed quietly, just trying to lighten the mood.

"Romance?" Emma asked, muffled.

River shook his head. "Not only that. Just fitting in."

He didn't know who he was outside of a camera's flash or his mother's rules. Now, surrounded by people who lived messy lives was terrifying.

"If it's with people...." Emma started. "You just find people who care about you or what you enjoy..."

River considered her words. What did he enjoy? Certainly not the endless cycle of modelling and being told what to do. His life had always been mapped out for him, leaving little room to explore what he enjoyed.

"It'd have to be of the interests around here..." Emma trailed.

"Options are endless," Bryce said with a crooked grin. "Clean puke. Dig graves. Babysit demon toddlers. Save the day."

"Or be a housewife!" Esme called out from the kitchen, her voice bubbling with laughter.

Emma whispered, "And find those right people."

Bryce chimed in, "You have to beware of this ugly thing named Ashley. It sends dead followers, and I hit her with a car. Oh, I stopped the blizzard for a second."

Cindy rushed into the room. "That's why it stopped..." she trailed off.

The lights flared back to life with a violent buzz, flooding the room in harsh white. No one moved. The brightness felt wrong.

Bryce moved first, as he filled bowls at the sink. The sound of rushing water was almost deafening after the quiet.

River blinked against the light, edges of vision still flickering. Outside, snow still tore sideways across the window, a blur of white and shadow.

Cindy darted to the thermostat, the air thickening with heat until it felt suffocating. The warmth didn't chase away the chill crawling up River's arms.

"Are we dreaming?" Esme's voice wavered as she darted through the hall.

From the bathroom, Mia's voice yelled, "I'm showering!"

Everything was cut short as the lights plunged the house into darkness.

"No!" Esme called.

"At least I got us some water," Bryce said, grinning.

Why did the electricity flicker like that? Did whoever caused this randomly stop the storm again? Wasn't a random glitch in the storm—or something—intervening again? River couldn't help feeling this wasn't just another power outage.

River's dark life has been revealed, and Mia's admission.

Which new character do you like the most?
-Lexi