Page 1 of Where the Darkness Goes

CHAPTER ONE

TESSA

This has to be a bad omen.

As far as I can see, the storm has erased the world. Against the dark gray sky, ominous clouds loom. Thick raindrops smack into my windshield with a roar so deafening I can no longer hear the music playing from my car’s speakers. The raging storm outside competes with the cyclone inside my core. The swell of dread grows in my stomach, gnawing at my organs with a foreboding sort of panic as real as the heartbeat in my chest, and on its own, it would be enough to make me consider turning around.

As if I wasn’t already.

“Kick me when I’m down,” I mutter.

Apparently taking it as a challenge, the universe offers a steel-toed boot to the kidneys in the form of a loudTHUNKand an agonizing jolt of the car.

A pothole.

My stomach skydives. I curse to myself as I grip the steering wheel tighter with both hands, navigating the car to the flooding shoulder and into the nearby church parking lot as the wheel wobbles and clunks. The shaking is so treacherous, I can’tpretend to hope I’d make it to Ernie’s garage, the only mechanic shop in this sleepy town.

I drop my head forward, slowly and gently tapping it against the steering wheel in an effort to calm myself down and slow my breathing.

Get it together, Tessa. We will figure this out.

With newfound determination, I look out the windows, searching for the world I know is out there. I haven’t seen another car in ages, which means no one will be by to help unless I call for it. It’s Thursday, so no one will be at church, either.

Unless You feel like sending a miracle.I turn my eyes up to the sky, but it’s useless.

Putting the car in park, I lean across the center console and dig my phone out of my purse, looking for my brother’s name in my recent calls.

I can’t remember what time he said he was leaving town, but hopefully I can catch him before he heads out.

There’s no one else I can call for help anymore. The thought is more depressing than I’d expected. Will is all I have left.

I tap Will’s name in my call log, disconnecting the Bluetooth and turning it up as loud as it goes before I press it to my ear, though the ring is still barely audible over the clamor of the storm.

Lightning cracks overhead, followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder that makes me jolt.

Pick up, Will. Please pick up.

As if denying my requests, the phone goes to voicemail just moments later. I groan, end the call, and try again.

Without any luck, and as tears begin to prick my eyes, I open my phone’s browser and search for the number to Ernie’s garage. It was one of the numbers Mom kept taped to the fridge all my life. There were quite a few there, and I could probably remember everyone on the list: our pediatrician, Dr.Jacobs; the church; the school; Ernie’s garage; a handyman we used occasionally when things went wrong around the house; and Dr. Tubb, our dentist. I can see her scratchy handwriting so clearly in my mind—the list etched out on a yellowing scrap of notebook paper—but I definitely don’t have any of the numbers memorized.

Across the top of my screen, the blue bar of my search moves slowly, stopping midway as if it’s a toddler stomping its foot. Refusing to do what I’ve asked. The storm is making the internet slower than usual, which is truly saying something.

Damn it.I scroll through my contacts, racking my brain for anyone else I could call, but just as I’m about to give up, my screen goes dark with an incoming call.It’s Will.

“Hey, thank god. Where are you?”

My brother’s calm but wary voice comes through the line. No matter what is going on, he always sounds a bit too casual. The voice of someone who’s never had anything bad happen to him. “Sorry. I’m fighting airport traffic right now. This storm has grounded everything.”

“I know. I’m stuck in the middle of it right now. It’s really coming down.”

He sighs as I hear his blinker turn on. “Damn. I was hoping you’d make it to the house before it hit. Where are you?”

“Sitting in the church parking lot. I hit a pothole, and my tire’s flat,” I tell him, raising my voice as the sound of the rain gets louder outside. “Any chance you can come pick me up? The internet on my phone isn’t working, or I’d call Ernie’s.”

There’s a long pause, and I can practically see him running his hand through his perfectly coiffed blond hair. Undeniably at ease. His flight has been canceled, and he’s dealing with it as if a road was closed and he’ll just have to go around. As if it’s a simple detour and not the plan-ruining update most people would make it out to be.

“Uh, I’m having to drive to Huntsville, so I can’t backtrack, but I’ll figure something out, okay?”

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