If I’d been at home, my mom would be telling me what to do. She probably would have told me to stay at the Club. I’m not used to ordering food at a restaurant and I’m not used to deciding where to ride out a tornado. I look out into the black sky. It’s too late now to head back to the Club. The bus turned right around when it left me. Nerves tumble in my stomach. I don’t know what I was thinking coming down to look for a stray cat.

Athena’s probably safely tucked away somewhere—maybe even the home she escaped from. If she could see me, she’d be licking her paws with disdain, contemplating what a fucking idiot I am.

The shuttle bus is long gone. Maybe I could get a cab? I’d feel terrible bringing someone out here in these conditions, especially since they’d be returning down the mountain alone. I’ve left everything too late.

I just need to do the best I can. Nothing left for it now but to go inside and try to get warm.

I peel off my coat and hang it on the back of the door. “Athena!” I call again, just in case I locked her inside this morning when I left. She’s used to her name and usually saunters toward me when she hears it. Maybe she needs a little incentive. I grab her cat food and put some in her dish. “Athena!”

Nothing.

I head to the bedroom to check in there. Opening the door, I hear the rain hammering against the window. It’s fierce. I wish Athena were as eager to get inside.

I dip down to check under the white, metal-framed bed, but it’s clear.

The rain is relentless.

Drip, drip, drip.

Wait. That’s not rain.

I try and silence my breathing so I can hear better.

Drip, drip, drip.

That sound is definitely coming from inside the cabin.

Just then, the sound of creaking wood splinters through the bedroom. Shit, is that the ceiling? I don’t know where I’m safe. And that’s when I see the pool of water on my bed. I glance up to a ceiling bulging downward, dripping a steady stream of water.

“Oh no!” I cry out.

I go into the kitchen and grab the biggest pot I can find to put under the leak. It won’t keep the ceiling from caving in, or save the mattress that’s probably already soaked, but I need to feel like I’m doing something. Anything.

I really need to move the bed and save it from any further damage. The room isn’t big though, and no amount of shifting left or right will escape the steadily worsening leak. I should call Beth and Mike.

And I need to find Athena.