“Power went out.”
“It’s hot.”
Marcus touched her forehead.
Caroline grabbed the battery fan and camping lantern from the hallway closet when he asked.
Within twenty minutes, the house had become noticeably warmer.
Within forty, Amara became quiet.
Too quiet.
Marcus noticed before Caroline did.
He pressed a cool cloth against his daughter’s neck.
Amara barely complained.
That frightened him more.
Caroline pulled Marcus into the hallway.
“She’s not sweating.”
“I know.”
“She’s really hot.”
“I know.”
“Marcus.”
He looked at her.
“She’s had heat exhaustion before.”
Caroline’s stomach dropped.
“How bad?”
“If the power comes back soon, we’re okay.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Marcus looked toward Amara’s room.
“It can turn fast.”
Caroline’s mind began moving.
Hotels might be packed.
Hospitals overwhelmed.
Traffic lights were out.
Driving across the city with an overheated child could make things worse.
Then she looked through the front window.
“My car.”
Marcus frowned.
“Your what?”
“My Lexus.”
“It has AC.”
“We don’t need to drive anywhere.”
“We put Amara in the car.”
“Full tank.”
“Engine running.”
“Cold air.”
Marcus stared.
Then grabbed the keys from Caroline’s hand.
“That’ll work.”
They moved quickly.
Marcus carried Amara.
Caroline started the engine.
Within minutes, the back seat became cold.
Marcus sat beside his daughter with the cool cloth.
Caroline sat sideways in the front passenger seat watching them.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
Amara’s face began to change.
Sweat returned.
Her breathing became easier.
Finally she muttered, “This is weird.”
Marcus laughed from relief.
“What?”
“Sitting in a car in the driveway.”
“It’s the best room in the house right now.”
Amara leaned against him.
Caroline wiped her face.
The girl looked toward her.
“You came back.”
Caroline smiled.
“I did.”
“I told Dad you would.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Amara continued sleepily.
“Are you guys done being mad?”
“We’re working on it,” Caroline said.
“Good.”
Amara yawned.
“Dad misses you.”
“Bug.”
“He does.”
“He’s bad at saying stuff.”
Marcus looked at Caroline.
Amara’s eyes drifted shut.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“She’s right.”
“About which part?”
“All of it.”
Caroline waited.
Marcus looked down at his daughter.
“When Renee died, the worst moment wasn’t inside the hospital.”
Caroline said nothing.
“It was the drive home.”
“I had to go tell a five-year-old her mother was dead.”
“I drove home alone.”
“There was nobody in the passenger seat.”
His voice became unsteady.
“I remember sitting at a red light thinking I would give anything for one person to be sitting beside me.”
“Anybody who knew what I was about to walk into.”
He looked toward Caroline.
“I spent three years making sure I would never feel that alone again.”