Page 76 of From the Darkness

“Can I do it for you?”

“I told you once, you don’t have to do my job.” Without further conversation, the housekeeper turned and marched out of the room. Bree could hear her clomping down the stairs.

She stayed at the table for several moments, her tension gathering like the clouds. If the woman came back into the kitchen to check on her, she’d better be eating her bun and sipping her coffee. On the other hand, this might be her last chance to get to the electrical cutoff.

Swiftly she rose and hurried toward the pantry. Then she checked herself and turned to the cabinet where the housekeeper had stored the flashlight.

It was still there, and she snatched it up, her hand clamping around the hard plastic shaft as she pulled open the pantry door. It took only moments to locate the circuit box. The main switch was next to it.

Three things happened as she cut the power.

The room was plunged into gloom, a boom of thunder sounded above the house, and from the floor below she heard Mrs. Martindale cry out. “The lights! The lights are out.”

Bree was about to switch on the flashlight, when the sound of heavy, running footsteps stopped her.

“Edith,” Graves shouted. “Edith, are you all right.”

He pounded across the kitchen, and Bree ducked back behind a set of shelves, just as he flung the door open.

“Edith? Where are you?”

Praying the darkness hid her, Bree pressed her back against the wall.

“Foster? I’m in the cellar. Help me. It’s dark as pitch down here.”

Graves turned and bolted toward the basement. Bree waited until she heard him clattering down the stairs before slipping out of the pantry. There was just enough light coming in the windows for her to find her way across the kitchen.

Below her she heard Mrs. Martindale crash into something—then curse in a most unladylike fashion.

“Take it easy; I’m coming,” Graves called out.

“Did you bring the flashlight?”

“Uh . . no.”

“Go back and get it, you fool.”

She heard him turn and start back to the kitchen, but she was already in the hall. She took the steps to the second floor two at a time. In the upper hall, she switched on the flashlight as she pounded toward the schoolroom.

When she dashed into the room, her heart leaped into her throat when she didn’t immediately see Dinah. Then the beam of light revealed the child huddled in the corner clutching Alice.

Dinah whimpered, and Bree called her name as she hurried across the room.

“The lights went out!”

“Yes, but it’s okay. I’ve got the flashlight.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back. Mrs. Martindale was up here a little while ago, and she was looking for you. She was mad. I’ve never seen her so mad.”

“She was upset,” Bree murmured.

“I feared her. I wanted you to come back.”

Bree hunkered down beside the little girl and pulled her close. “I’m sorry I took so long. I think we’re going to have a bad storm. We’ll stay here nice and snug until it’s over. Okay?”

Dinah huddled against her. “Okay.”

Bree held her close, needing Dinah’s comfort as much as the child needed her as the wind howled at the windows.

---