The morning after the storm was unnervingly quiet. Kofi woke on the couch, a stiff crick in his neck, the memory of the previous night a heavy, surreal fog. He had stayed in the living room, not wanting Thea to feel trapped, giving her the illusion of space even within their small apartment.
He sat up, the gray morning light filtering through the blinds. The apartment was still. He walked to her door and listened. Nothing. 'Is she asleep? Is she okay?'
He knocked softly. "Thea?"
A long pause, then the quiet click of the lock. The door opened a crack. She stood there, dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts, her face pale and puffy, her eyes empty. The vibrant, living girl from the mountains was gone, replaced by the ghost he had first met.
"Hey," he said gently. "You hungry?"
