25

25

F lora opens her eyes to find herself lying on the couch. Her back is stiff, and her lids are half-glued shut with sleepy gunk. The house is still, but the storm continues to rage outside. She opens and closes her palms, then rubs her fingertips together and cracks her knuckles. Where is her mother? How long has she been on the couch? The last thing she remembers is being in the kitchen with Jodi.

Flora shifts her weight and brings her feet to the floor. The rain pierces with a sharp, tinny tone. It must be getting colder out there; this sounds more like hail.

The room around her is vacant, and she realizes the entire house is dark. It must be the middle of the night. Or maybe it's seven p.m. She really has no clue, and the storm outside seems to have plunged the world into eternal darkness.

"You fainted." Jodi enters from the garage. "So there might have been something to that notion of dehydration, after all."

"I fainted ?" Flora can't believe it. "How long have I been on the couch?"

"Not long," Jodi says, wiping her hands on her pants. "Maybe an hour? I'm not sure. And I don't know what time it is because the power went out."

Flora realizes this must be why the house is so dark. Then a worse realization hits. "Oh no," she says. "No, no, no. How will I pump?"

"Do you need the electric pump?" Jodi asks.

"I mean, I can technically do it by hand but, God, that'll take hours. I can't do that. I can't…" Flora starts to cry. "There has to be a way… we don't have a generator, but have you checked the circuit breaker? It's in—"

"—the garage. That's what I was doing. No luck. But you're welcome to try it yourself."

Flora deflates. Her breasts are already feeling full. She nudges them with her fingers, feeling their soft bounce, checking for sore spots. None yet.

And what will happen to the milk in the fridge? She can't afford for it to go bad.

"I'll help you," Jodi says. "Hopefully the power will be back on soon."

But as the hail pelts harder outside, they both know this is wishful thinking. Flora reaches for her phone and sees she has missed a call from her dad. Noticing the battery is in the red, she instinctively reaches for the charger on the end table before remembering the electricity is out.

"We have to leave," Flora says. "Go to a hotel or something."

"There's no way we're driving in this weather," Jodi says. "Especially not with a baby in the car. You're too tired. You just fainted, for God's sake. And my eyesight is already terrible, especially since this twitch started. Paired with the blinding rain, it's just not possible. We have to stay here."

Flora whimpers like a kicked dog. She curses the storm. Why couldn't it have held off for just two more days? Connor will be home then, and he would know what to do in this situation. These things don't stress him out the way they do her.

Zephie what do I do this is so unfair

But Zephie doesn't show up. In fact, Flora hasn't seen or heard from her since their little tiff earlier in Jodi's room.

Although her mother is only a few feet away, Flora feels very alone. She knows this is unfair; Jodi is here for the sole purpose of helping. But still, Flora feels helpless, completely at the mercy of the world around her, a plastic bag in the wind.

Flora sits on the edge of the bathtub, the cool porcelain hard against the bones of her butt. She is naked from the waist up, cranking a hand pump on her right breast. Her hand cramps. The stream of milk is still going strong after forty minutes of continuous squeezing. And she hasn't even started on the left breast. This is in no way sustainable. She's desperate for electricity.

Flora cries. Her shoulders heave forward, and she abandons the pump in order to hold her head in her hands. Her thighs turn red from the pressure of her elbows as she watches the tears fall to the floor below.

I am failing in every way in every way I am failing

This has become her mantra.

She stares at the marble floor. Its design paints unintended pictures on its surface. Like finding shapes in clouds. She spots a resting camel with a large hump, a rabbit ready to pounce, an elegant Venetian mask.

"That's a candle with a flickering flame, do you see it?"

When she hears Zephie's voice, Flora's whole body exhales. She lifts her head and sees herself at ten years old. Hazel eyes, dry skin on the forehead, baby hairs that curl around her ears. It's like stepping through a time machine. Zephie smiles, and Flora sees the space between her upper teeth that braces will later fix.

this makes sense Zephie is me I am Zephie

Flora smiles and lifts her arms to hug the child version of herself, but suddenly something is very wrong. Her body feels heavy, weighed down.

wet I'm soaking wet

The bathtub is overflowing. Her pants are sopping wet, clinging to her body. The water falls over the edge of the tub with fervor, quickly accumulating on the floor. Zephie looks suddenly scared. She is wet now, too, and her hair sticks to her face and neck. The lightweight dress she's wearing was only moments ago a soft baby blue and has now been darkened by the water.

"Flora?" she asks, but her voice sounds like she's underwater.

Flora reaches out for Zephie, but her muscles are rubber. She is forced to watch as the water level in the bathroom increases and the whoosh of the overflow gets louder. Zephie starts to cry, and then she opens her mouth to scream, but no sound comes out, only a huge gush of water like the end of a firehose has been opened—

"What is it?" Jodi snaps her fingers in front of Flora's face. "Flora? Hello?"

Flora blinks, and the bathroom is back to normal. The tub is not overflowing, because it was never on. The floor is dry. She has regained mobility in her body. Zephie no longer sits on the floor in front of her.

"Did you see that?" she asks Jodi, even though she already knows the answer.

Jodi looks around the room. "See what?" Then, after a moment of silence, Jodi frowns. She clearly has much to say but steels herself. "Iris is crying. I think she's hungry."

Flora takes in a slow breath. "Can you do it? Feed her? There's milk in the fridge. We should use it… before… before it goes bad."

Jodi nods, then looks around the room one more time, as if someone might pop out from under the sink and explain everything. Finally, she exhales. "Sure. I'll feed her."

And she leaves.

Flora inspects her hands and clothes. She feels under her butt for water. She even places her hands on the floor, rubs her fingers over the image of the flickering candle that Zephie found, but there is not even one drop of water.

"What was that?" she asks out loud, praying that Zephie will answer. "Am I hallucinating?"

"No," Zephie says from behind her.

Flora whips around and sees Zephie sitting in the tub, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

"You're not crazy," the girl says.

"But I have to be. This is… none of this is real. You're not real."

"Stop saying that!" Zephie shouts, and her voice reverberates so strongly around the room that the mirror on the wall vibrates.

Flora stands, trembling. "You're scaring me," she says in a tiny voice.

Zephie mimics her, like that childhood game of copying whatever the other person says. "You're scaring meeeee," Zephie sings. "You're scaring me! You're scaring me!"

"Stop," Flora begs. "Stop it, Zephie. Why are you doing this?"

" I'm not doing anything !" Zephie retorts. She buries her face in her knees, balling her body until it is impossibly compact, and cries. Her shoulders move up and down with her short, heaving breaths.

Flora's fear dissipates and is replaced by guilt. Zephie is just a child. If anyone is scared, it's probably her.

"I'm sorry," Flora says. She places her hands on the edge of the tub and kneels down beside it. "Zephie?" Flora gently touches Zephie's arm, a desperate plea for connection. "Can you look at me?"

But when Zephie complies and lifts her head, it's not tears that Flora sees coming from Zephie's eyes. Instead, with each great heave, a line of beetles emerges from her black sockets.

Flora jumps up and back, bruising her spine against the countertop and sink. Zephie screams again and reaches her tiny hands up to her face, digging her nails into her cheeks to scrape up the bugs. Blood drips down to her chin, but the beetles keep coming. Flora watches as Zephie's body decomposes in fast motion. The beetles are feeding.

"What's happening to me?" Zephie shouts as her body deteriorates. "What's happening?"

But Flora doesn't answer. Instead, she flies out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her and racing down the hallway toward the stairs. She skips every other step and nearly slips toward the middle, but she finally reaches the bottom and finds her mother with Iris in the living room. Flora doesn't say a word, just runs to her mother and falls at her feet, grabbing her legs and pressing her face into Jodi's body. Her breath is shallow and hoarse.

Jodi runs her long, brittle fingernails through Flora's hair, massaging her scalp. After a moment, she coos, "Let me help you."

Flora doesn't pull her head away from her mother's touch; she just nods agreement with her whole body.

"Yes," she replies. "Yes."