Chapter 3
Rowan Velasco watched as the rain fell, darkening the sky even though it was midday. Folding his arms, he stood at the window, dry and waiting as the droplets smacked the glass. The large bay window was trusted to keep him safe.
But his underlying anxiety was well earned. In the past, the water had won. He told himself they didn’t have to worry now. Things had changed.
In fact, his father had thought about exactly that when he had this place built.
His dad had fought and paid for every bit of protection.
These windows weren’t glass, not even polymer, but dual-paned, almost bulletproof pieces with an argon layer in between.
They protected from water and sun and attacks.
Rowan thought it was overkill, his dad’s own past fears driving him too far.
But Rowan appreciated it now. Even though his father was long gone, he could almost see and hear the man beside him, pointing out the qualities the builder had sold him on.
Even if the builder had just been upselling the old man because he could.
Though he felt safe now, Rowan's arms tightened. Every muscle in his torso clenched, the past creeping in. It was fifteen years ago. He would have told anyone who asked that he was over it.
He'd survived. His family all survived. Most of the families he knew all survived. But that day had been the beginning of the end.
Now his home was higher on the mountainside.
He knew a person's placement on the mountain was more than just topography. The higher land was safer, and it sold for more. Fifteen years ago, they'd lived across from the river. It was all they’d been able to afford. And they’d lived in a little row with families that had similar fates.
The little cluster of homes had fought the water then, and only partially survived the rising, raging river.
At his first opportunity, Rowan’s dad moved his big family up the mountainside. Then later, he’d done it again, getting higher, safer, farther from the water. They’d moved into this place right before he died.
Again, Rowan told himself he was safe. That his mother was safe.
His brothers weren't all here in the house with him, but he’d checked on each of them.
Oldest of seven, he carried the responsibility of keeping track of them.
Some of them weren't even in town. They were safe. He counted them again just to be sure.
Watching out the window, he thought about the people who stayed in the little cluster of homes that fought the river and lost last time. Some stayed because the land was family land, and nothing would make them move. They would die on that plot. Rowan thought they just might.
Some had been too traumatized to stay and packed everything into whatever old car they had and simply drove away from Belle Hollow. As far as he knew, they’d not come back. Some stayed because they had no other options.
He thought of one woman in particular and wondered if she would be okay in this. Wondered if she felt the same anxiety he did. Wondered if she would blame him for this, too. Lord knew she could likely find a way, and somehow, though he desperately wanted to, he still didn't hate her for it.
The urge to get in his car, drive down and check on people, was strong.
But he knew, it was mostly about her. Besides, the emergency warning systems had been clear: Stay in your home.
Attempting to save someone else would just create someone else the teams had to rescue later.
That was if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, it would turn you into a dead body.
Everyone who lived in Belle Hollow for any length of time remembered the last flood. Remembered how hard they’d fought. What they’d lost. What they’d found afterward. He stayed put and told himself it wouldn't be as bad as last time. It simply couldn’t be.
But then, as his mother stepped into the room behind him, his sister Indigo right behind her, frowning, he turned.
Indie was probably too young to remember when Belle Hollow flooded before.
Or maybe she was just old enough to have the most terrifying memories of all.
She glared hard at him, as if maybe this was his fault too.
He had, after all, tried to convince her to come back here after college, and she'd arrived all of two weeks ago. Just in time for this.
Still, he reminded himself if she was glaring at him, then she was safe. Somewhere in another part of the house, a door thumped as one of his brothers moved around, preparing for disaster or setting up games. Rowan couldn’t tell.
As he looked next at his mother, he tried to let his calm expression reassure her. He failed. Because just then the radio crackled to life with a warning.