Cora opens her front door in a tank top and cotton shorts that I can hardly make out through the veil of darkness. I hold my phone screen up for light, illuminating the hesitant look in her eyes.

“You didn’t need to come over, Dean.”

I offer a small smile. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

She steps aside, sighing softly, and allows me to enter. I take tentative steps inside, holding out my hands so I don’t bump into anything. “Shit. It’s really dark.”

“That’s generally the consequence of no light.”

I make a humming sound, turning towards her when the door clicks shut. We stand there in silence for a few beats as our eyes adjust and find each other’s faces.

Cora clears her throat and sweeps past me, heading towards the kitchen. “It figures the power goes out the same day I drop a small fortune on groceries. Do you want anything?”

The moon is our only nightlight, and I can make out her vague outline reaching into the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of something. “I’m good.”

“Well, I’m going to have a glass of wine and try to pass out.”

I make my way into the kitchen, only bumping into one side table along the way. I hear the jangle of a dog collar from across the room and glance over to see four eyes glowing at me through the dark fog. “How are the dogs doing?”

I hear Cora rummage around a drawer, likely looking for the wine opener. “Really great, actually. Jude already knows how to give me his paw. Penny follows him around everywhere—it’s adorable.”

“That’s awesome, Cora. I’m glad it’s working out.”

“Yeah, I definitely haven’t gotten any vibes that they want to turn me into puppy chow. I think I’m in the clear.”

I quirk a smile, sidling up beside her and watching as she pours the wine. She sets the bottle down and cups her glass, bringing the rim to her lips and flicking her eyes up to me as she takes a sip.

Cora nibbles on her bottom lip, lowering her glass. “I didn’t hear from you all week.”

Her tone is accusing, but her eyes spear me with something softer. “Oh…” I scratch my head, then rub my hand down my face. “I didn’t know you wanted to hear from me.”

She blinks over the glass, then dips her chin. Cora turns away and ambles into the living room, plopping down onto the couch without responding.

I follow, sitting down beside her. “Cora, you told me you hated me—like, a dozen times. Then you told me you hated yourself, which I can only assume is because of me.”

She shrugs her shoulders and takes another sip. “I was upset.”

“Well, I didn’t want to make you more upset.”

“We kissed, Dean.” Cora glances at me through fluttering lashes. If I could see her better in the dark, I’m almost certain her cheeks would be flushed pink—and not from the wine. “A real kiss. You didn’t have a gun to your head.”