She gives me a look and says, “I’ll avoid the trees. I just hope they’ll avoid me.”

The rain feels like a car wash. Water hitting us from all directions. The tree branches whip in the wind. The smaller trunks bend.

Soon, it’s hailing and it sounds like we are being pummeled with pebbles.

We drive into our circle, and a small branch blocks our driveway. I look up at Olive’s Tree and pray it holds on. It would flatten one of our small houses if it ever fell down.

We pull right up to Olive’s house and run to it. Grammy swings open the unlocked door.

Olive is sitting under her kitchen table. Her knees to her chest. “Oh, Bridget. You’re here. I called Henry, but he didn’t answer and—”

The wind doesn’t howl. It screams.

The wooden house creaks. The wind feels angry. Like the walls will come apart.

I wonder about the barometric pressure again. Is this a hurricane? “I’m going to go check my weather station.”

Grammy whips her head around. “Oh no, you’re not. You’ve got a weather station right there,” she says, pointing at the window.

Grammy reaches for Olive. “Come, Olive . . . please.”

I have already opened the cellar door.

Olive doesn’t want to come out from under the table. She shakes her head.

“Now, hush, Olive. Come with us. The cellar will be safer.”

We all jump when something crashes against the side of the house.

Finally, Olive gets up and the three of us file down the basement steps.

We sit under the stairs in the basement because it’s the safest place. Staring upward, all praying for the same thing, I suppose. That somehow this house will stay planted on the ground. I don’t need any hugging, but Olive needs some. Grammy wraps her up, and it surprises me to see. Olive taking a hug like that.

The wind screams. We stay quiet. I worry and pray and think about Ronan, hoping that boy stayed out of the water during a storm.

Chapter 25

THE REEL OF MISFORTUNE

The world smells different after a storm.

We have no power or phones the next morning, and that has Grammy worrying she’ll miss the Game Show Network for days on end.

I am itchy to get out and find Ronan, but Grammy won’t let me go. She’s worried about power lines being down.

“But I have to go find Ronan and see if he’s okay.”

Grammy smiles big, and I am annoyed. Until she looks past me, waves her hand, and Ronan steps inside.

Before I think about it, I give him a quick hug. He doesn’t know it’s because I’m happy he is alive.

He straightens and looks at me like I just coughed up a quahog. “Hey, Delsie.” His face is red.

“Sorry. I’m just . . . I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

“Why would I not be okay?”