Chapter 16
The house appeared ordinary as Charlotte pulled into the driveway, with nothing about it hinting at the unsettling silence that blanketed the rest of the neighborhood.
The garage door was open, revealing her father’s tools neatly arranged on the workbench.
Through the kitchen window, she caught a glimpse of her mother moving between the counter and the refrigerator, preparing lunch.
The scene felt so normal that, for a moment, Charlotte wondered if she had imagined the alerts, the shuttered stores, and the military aircraft that had crossed through the darkness.
She parked her mail truck behind her mother’s sedan and sat for a moment, observing the house.
Nine deliveries remained on her route. At her usual pace, she could finish in under two hours and be home before five.
Still, for some reason, she had felt compelled to make a detour to check on Sophia and her parents.
The back door was unlocked, as it always was during the day, so Charlotte let herself in.
“We’re in the kitchen,” her mother shouted. “Come have some lunch.”
The kitchen smelled of tomato soup and grilled cheese, a combination that carried Charlotte back to childhood sick days and snowed-in weekends. Her mother stood at the stove, stirring a pot while arranging sandwiches on a plate. She looked up with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Perfect timing,” Evelyn said. “I was just about to call everyone to the table.”
“Where’s Dad? Sophia?”
“Downstairs, fixing that leaky faucet. They’ve been at it since you called, and I think they’re enjoying having a project.”
Charlotte headed for the basement stairs and called ahead. “Dad? Sophia?”
“We’re at the workbench,” her father replied. “Come on down.”
The basement had been Liam’s domain since they’d moved in thirty years earlier.
Unlike the organized garage, it held a chaos of half-finished projects, salvaged materials, and tools, arranged according to some system he alone understood.
In the corner, a workbench sat beneath a single hanging light, its surface covered with disassembled faucet parts.
Sophia stood beside her grandfather with a small screwdriver in hand and a look of concentration on her face.
When Charlotte approached, Sophia looked up and smiled.
“Mom, you’re home early.”
“Just stopping by,” Charlotte said. “I’ve got a few more deliveries, then I’ll be done for the day. How’s it going down here?”
“Grandpa’s teaching me plumbing,” Sophia said. “It turns out it’s not that complicated. You just have to pay attention to how things fit together.”
“She’s a natural,” Liam said. “She had already figured out the problem. The washer’s completely shot. Judging by the look of it, it’s been leaking for months.”
“We’re almost done. We just need to put it back together and test it. Are you staying for lunch?”
“I should get back to my route. I only have nine stops left, and I’ll be home by five.”
“Probably for the best,” Liam said. “Get it done before the traffic gets bad.”
Charlotte nodded, understanding what he left unsaid.
She glanced around the basement and noticed details she had missed at first: the emergency lantern charging in the corner, the extra batteries lined up on a shelf, and the case of bottled water beside the washing machine.
Her parents were preparing, not openly and not in a way that would alarm Sophia, but preparing all the same.
“Mom?” Sophia said. “You okay? You look weird.”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said. “I’m just thinking about the rest of my route. I should get going.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?” Evelyn called. “There’s plenty.”
“I’m sure. I’ll eat when I get home. I promise.”
Sophia set down her screwdriver and crossed to Charlotte. At sixteen, she was already nearly her mother’s height, with Jacob’s eyes and Charlotte’s determined mouth. She wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s waist in a hug that felt both familiar and urgent.
“Be careful out there,” Sophia said. “If the world’s ending, I’d rather not go through it without you.”
“I’ll be careful, and the world isn’t ending. It’s just having a strange day.”
“That’s what they always say in the movies, right before everything goes to hell.”
“Sophia,” Evelyn said. “Language.”
“Sorry, Grandma,” Sophia said. “I just mean it doesn’t feel like a normal day.”
“It’s fine,” Charlotte said. “I should go. I’ll see you both in a few hours.”
She went back upstairs and stopped in the kitchen long enough to accept the sandwich her mother pressed into her hands.
The simple kindness nearly undid her. Charlotte nodded without trusting herself to speak and made her way back to the truck.
As she pulled out of the driveway, she caught a glimpse of her family through the kitchen window.
The sight should have reassured her. Instead, it left Charlotte with a cold certainty in the pit of her stomach.
She should have stayed home then, not after her route or in two hours, but immediately.
The thought came with such clarity that, for a moment, her hands shifted on the steering wheel as if she might turn the truck around.
Nine deliveries remained. She told herself she could make it and that whatever was happening, she would reach Sophia before it arrived.