Jane couldn’t explain why she stayed, beyond her true desire to stay with her patients who had no family and other loved ones.

She also couldn’t explain that mentally and physically, she simply couldn’t leave. Something kept her here.

She turned over in the dark, closing her eyes. No more thinking about the choices she made. Shelia could come in any second with word of the next disaster. She needed to sleep while she could. She said a silent prayer that the dream bypassed her this time.…

When she woke, her jaw hurt, which meant she’d been grinding her teeth. It signaled a long sleep.

She slipped off the cot, frantically pulling her hair back with the hair tie she always kept on her wrist. As she rushed to brush her teeth with the spare toothbrush she kept in her locker, and wash her face, she glanced at her phone, which now only served as a way to check the time and date.

Seven a.m. She’d slept the rest of the afternoon and night. Next to her phone was a note in Shelia’s handwriting. You needed it. It’s been quiet.

She hurried out into the lounge, quickly glancing at the back of a man leaning against the frame of one of the windows being hammered by the storm outside. Even the plywood nailed up outside was thumping like someone was pounding on it. It must be calmer inside, though, if Dr. Wraf was taking a break.

“You guys shouldn’t have let me sleep that long—”

Jane looked back quickly, realizing Dr. Wraf never wore a ball cap.

When the man turned from the window, she reached over and pinched her hand. You’re still asleep. You’re still asleep.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” the man said hesitantly. “I figured seeing my face after being asleep might make … things … even stranger.”

William Chance looked much older than she’d seen in her dreams. Certainly he’d aged from how he’d looked on the poster board of cut-out pictures that Julie, her best friend from high school, once hung in her bedroom. She’d tacked him alongside that guy from the Disney musical. She distinctly remembered Julie searching all the teen magazines and online websites for a picture of him smiling, but she could never find one. He clearly didn’t like having his photo taken.

“You can’t be in here.” It was all she could manage to say.

He exhaled, leaning on a table. “Probably not. But security is pretty light.”

She suddenly snapped into clarity. She’d seen him on the news before the power went out. He was on the run for some reason. He’d been kidnapped, right? By some kind of fanatics. It explained why he’d appeared again in her dreams. The subconscious mind was a powerful thing.