Deirdre started to hate storms and their thunderclaps ever since she was incarcerated. Her sight had only been robbed back then. Aside from how hard it was to acclimate to that darkness she could no longer escape, she had to avoid being tormented by other prisoners who were all too happy to capitalize on her blindness.

A single clap of thunder used to frighten her so much that she would shake despite herself. But since her life had gone back to normal, she had rarely been this panicked. Shutting her eyes, Deirdre wiped away beads of cold sweat from her face and turned on her side to face where the man was.

She reached her fingernails out to the comforter wrapped around him and opened her eyes suddenly. “Kyran?”

Deirdre ran her hands through his side of the bed. It was empty and cold.

He was gone.

When did he leave? Where did he go?

Deirdre lost her sleep. She swiped her shirt hanging from the side of her pillow, put it on, slipped into her shoes, and went outside.

The living r