Page 66 of The Texan's Secrets

Then again, the water might be worse. Given the slope of the backyard and the rate of the downpour, the flood was only going to get deeper.

Realizing her phone was in her hand, Emilia pressed Paris’s contact.

It rang and went to voice mail, and Emilia cursed under her breath.

As the water crept up her legs, she brought up their landlord’s number and called.

This time, she got an out-of-service message. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the circuits were overloaded.

Refocusing the flashlight beam, she went for Paris’s electronics first, taking her laptop and tablet upstairs to safety. It was awkward and slow going since she needed one hand for the flashlight. She could only carry so much at a time.

She made several more trips with some of Paris’s designer clothes, then rescued her jewelry box.

Realizing the flood was getting out of hand, she tried Paris again. Having no luck, she retried the landlord. Beginning to feel frantic, she dialed 911 but was put on hold. Having second thoughts about the urgency of her situation, she hung up. There were likely people with medical and other emergencies that needed emergency services more than she did.

She pulled up her recent call list and saw Nick’s name. Experiencing an unaccountable feeling of relief at the thought of talking to him, she placed the call.

It rang through.

“Emilia?” he answered.

“Nick? Oh, thank goodness.” She tried not to sound needy and relieved, but she was.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re flooding,” she said. “Paris is out, and her room is just filling up with water.”

“Where are you?”

“In her room. I got her tablet and computer, her jewelry and some of her clothes, but—”

“How deep in the water?”

She looked down at the blackness. “It’s over my knees now and rising.”

“You’re standing in it?”

“Yes.”

“Get out. Go upstairs. Don’t worry about saving her things. I’m on my way.”

“I don’t think you should drive,” Emilia said. “They’re telling people to stay off the roads.”

“I’m coming to you.”

“Nick—” She stopped talking. She didn’t even know what she wanted him to say or do. She just didn’t want to feel so completely alone.

“I’m in my truck,” he said. “I have plenty of clearance. I’m on my way. Goupstairs.”

“Okay,” she agreed, knowing she couldn’t do much more down here. The water seemed to be rising faster by the minute.

As she started for the stairs, her phone light began to fade. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, what?” Nick asked sharply.

She cracked her knee against something and stumbled in slow motion. She gasped and flailed her arms, dropping her phone and plunging the room into darkness as she fell into the water.

Panic rose in her throat before subsiding just as quickly.

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