POV: Aurora
The first sign isn't noise. It's silence.
I'm on the sofa when the lights suddenly go out. The "night sky" panel dies. The hum of ventilation cuts out. Everything is black. Everything is silent.
My chest tightens. You're not at the clinic, I think, but my body doesn't believe my thoughts. The darkness smells of disinfectant and locked doors.
"Aurora."
His voice comes from the hallway before his footsteps. Dante. The door opens. He enters with a flashlight, his silhouette outlined in the narrow beam of light.
"The main power failed," he says. "The backup will take a while. Breathe."
I obey. His voice is an anchor.
The flashlight sweeps across the windowless walls. The idea of being trapped here overwhelms me, even if it's only for a few minutes. He sees it.
"Look at me."
I move closer to the light until his face is all I can see. He's here. With me.
"It's not an attack," he adds. "It's a cable. Just a cable."
It sounds ridiculous. I want to cry.
