For a moment, no one spoke.
The darkness stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until David cleared his throat. "Well," he said mildly, his voice cutting through the black, "this is why I insisted on a backup generator. It should kick in any second now—unless it's decided tonight is its night off."David joked
There was a pause.
Then Chris snorted. Toby followed, and soon the twins were laughing outright. Amy laughed too, a little too loudly, and even Jen felt herself relax as she smiled.
The tension cracked just enough to let air back into the room.
"See?" David added lightly. "Nothing like a blackout to bring people together."
They waited.
Seconds passed. Then a minute. Still nothing.
Amy swirled the last of her wine in the glass, frowning. "It's usually faster than this."she complained
David stood, pushing his chair back. "I'll go check the power house. Probably just a tripped switch."
"Take a flashlight," Amy said automatically.
"I know my way around," he replied, already moving away. "I'll be right back."
His footsteps faded, swallowed by the size of the house.
Another minute passed. Then another.
Just as Amy opened her mouth to say something, the lights flickered—once, twice—and then came fully back on. The chandelier above them glowed warmly, as if nothing had ever been wrong.
"Yes!" Chris pumped his fist.
"Told you!" Toby said, grinning.
Amy exhaled, relief softening her shoulders. "There we go."
But David didn't return.
"He's probably just double-checking," Amy said, though something about the timing made her uneasy. Amy glanced toward the hallway, then down at the table. "I'll call him."
She reached for her phone—then froze.
Her smile vanished.
"He left his phone," she said quietly, lifting it from beside his plate.
The room seemed to tilt.
"Dad wouldn't do that," Toby said.
Chris nodded. "Never."
Amy stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. "This isn't funny."
Jen rose too. "I'll go check on him."
Amy shook her head. "No, you don't—"
"It's okay," Jen said gently. "You stay here with the kids. I'll just make sure he's fine."
Amy hesitated, then nodded, pulling the twins closer to her. "Be quick."
Jen grabbed a flashlight from the counter and headed out the back, the night air cool against her skin. The path to the power house was lit by low garden lights, now glowing steadily again. Everything looked... normal. Too normal.
The power house door was ajar.
"David?" she called softly, shining the light inside.
No answer.
The small room hummed with electricity, machines steady and alive. Jen stepped closer, scanning the walls—and that's when she noticed it.
The wiring.
Several cables had been pulled loose, deliberately so. Not a clean failure. Not an accident.
Her stomach tightened.
But the systems were running fine now, lights restored, everything functioning. Maybe David had already fixed it and stepped away. Maybe she was overthinking.
She backed out, closing the door behind her, and started moving toward the house.
Halfway there, she heard it.
A scream.
High-pitched. Panicked.
From inside the house.
Jen broke into a run.
As she neared the entrance, she slowed abruptly. The
front door wasn't fully closed—it hung open just enough to reveal darkness beyond the threshold.
That wasn't right.
Another scream tore through the night.
"Amy!" Jen shouted, reaching for the door.
Then she heard footsteps behind her.
Fast. Heavy.
She turned—
And never saw the punch coming.
Pain exploded across her face, white and blinding. The world spun, the ground rushing up to meet her as everything went dark.