Page 89 of Lucky Night

She drops the phone and presses her hands to her ears. Nick is doing the same.

But the roar continues.

Then the room begins to move.

It doesn’t shake, or sway.

It shudders.

A single, slow and queasy shiver. The floor seems to rise, the ceiling to bear down.

Reeling, terror-struck, she turns to the television. People are running. The camera jerks and tilts to the side. Nick is watching, too, hands covering his ears.

Juliana is turning, looking up. Something is falling.

The picture freezes, then turns to snow.

The room is quiet. It’s stopped moving.

Is it over? Are they over?

Is everything about to fall down?

No. The ground holds. The noise is gone.

The lights, which had flickered, snap back full force, as does the television. The anchors in the studio look terrified.

Our live feed just cut out. We’re not sure what…Juliana?

Juliana can you hearus?

Juliana, are you there?

Jenny takes one stumbling step toward the door.

Then another.

Then she falls to her knees and wraps her arms around her head. Making a noise between a whimper and a howl.

Her fears come back, they come roaring back, like the roar that just filled her ears.

She is doomed.

They are dying. Here.

They are dying here tonight.

Fifteen

She becomes aware of him, of his hands, his arms around her, pulling her—where? Up? She doesn’t want up, she wants to stay on the floor, grounded, as grounded as she can be so high in the air. Forty-two flights! They are dead. Dead people. She resists his pulling hands, jerks away. More hands, men’s hands, won’t they leave her alone?

She feels him relent, crouch beside her, holding her huddled, quaking self. He’s talking but the stream of words makes no sense, it might as well be Finnish because a blanket has descended, a choking blanket of dread, letting noise in, his voice and the yammering television, but no meaning, no thought.

She is meaningless, thoughtless, and alone, all alone.

She doesn’t want to come up on the bed, fine, they’ll stay down here. He holds her as close as he can, hunched awkwardly, smoothing her hair.

Jenny, he says. Jennyjennyjennyjenny. Hey. It’s over. Try to breathe, okay? Take a deep breath. Can you do that? Can you…it’s okay. I’ve got you. We’re okay. We’re alive.

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