Chapter 25:When the Lights Go Out

Chapter 25: When the Lights Go Out

The house had never been so quiet.

It started with a flicker. A hum. Then silence.

The power died sometime after midnight.

Nova lit a candle, its glow flickering against the unfinished walls. Bea stood barefoot in the kitchen, staring at the fuse box like it had betrayed her.

"Storm must've taken something out," she muttered.

Nova smirked, holding the flame between them. "Maybe it's a sign."

Bea raised an eyebrow. "A sign to do what?"

Nova's voice dipped low. "To stop pretending we're not still afraid."

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The Quiet Between Them

With the lights gone, there was nothing to hide behind.

No distractions. No noise. Just two women and all the truths they hadn't dared speak.

Bea sat cross-legged on the floor, knees touching Nova's. The candle sat between them like a small sun.

"I used to be scared of the dark," Bea admitted. "Not because of what was in it. But because of what wasn't."

Nova tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Bea's voice cracked. "The dark meant loneliness. Silence. No one coming to find me."

Nova reached forward, gently tracing the back of Bea's hand. "I'll always come find you."

Tears welled, silent and slow. Bea didn't look away.

"I believe you now," she whispered.

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The Memory

Nova stood and disappeared for a moment, returning with an old box—weathered and taped at the edges.

"What's this?" Bea asked.

Nova hesitated, then opened it.

Inside: a faded notebook, a cracked Polaroid, a child's drawing of a house with stars above it.

"My mother used to read to me during blackouts," Nova said. "She said the dark was when stories came alive. That we could be anything in the dark."

Bea picked up the Polaroid. It was a photo of a younger Nova, no older than ten, smiling shyly in a room lit by candles.

"Did it work?" Bea asked.

Nova smiled softly. "Yeah. I used to pretend I was safe."

Bea put the photo down and pulled Nova into her lap. "You don't have to pretend anymore."

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The Power Comes Back

When the lights finally blinked on hours later, they were still there—in each other's arms, wrapped in memory and warmth.

But neither rushed to move.

The dark had held them like a womb, and now the light only made the moment more sacred.

Nova whispered, "You still scared of the dark?"

Bea kissed her temple. "Only when you're not in it."

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End of Chapter 25