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“Thank you.”

She nodded and left me with the fan.

By five o’clock, Hilary’s house and Hudson’s had both been aired out enough for limited entry.

The council marked several rooms off-limits until a cleaning team could remove the remaining wolfsbane residue. Everyone else stayed outside while Hudson, Hilary, and two responders did one more sweep to check for damage.

I stood on the porch because no one had asked me to leave and I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them in their time of need.

Caldwell sat beside Julie with a blanket around his shoulders. He had spoken little since the attack, but he allowed me to bring him juice. I set the cup beside him.

“You don’t have to drink it now.”

He picked it up. I stepped away before my presence became pressure for him to acknowledge me in some way. I knew his nervous system was overloaded. There was no need to push a connection right now.

Trevor sat on the grass drawing the damaged house in a sketchbook.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Processing trauma through art.”

“That sounds like a healthy coping mechanism.”

“I added a wolf in sunglasses punching a smoke bomb.”

He turned the sketch toward me. The wolf had Hudson’s broad shoulders and an inaccurate number of abdominal muscles.

“You gave him a ten-pack.”

The corner of Trevor’s lip lifted. “Heroic exaggeration.”

Hudson called from the porch, “Sloane’s right. If you want to be accurate, you should draw me with an eight-pack.”

Trevor shouted back, “In your dreams.”

I laughed. The sound felt strange after the day we had survived.

Normality returned in small, ridiculous pieces. A child arguing about going home and eating dinner. Grandpa Alfonse refusing another oxygen reading. Grandma Ruth trying to feed council responders who had already declined four times.

It might have continued that way if Karen had remained stunned and overwhelmed at what she’d witnessed.

Unfortunately, Karen recovered.

She emerged from the neighboring house shortly after the council cleared the first floor. Someone had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and a responder followed with instructions that she should rest due to an elevated blood pressure.

Karen ignored him.

Her eyes found me near the supply table. I knew what was coming before she took the first step.

Patty knew too. “Oh, no,” she murmured.

Karen crossed the lawn with purpose. Several conversations faded as people noticed.

She stopped a few feet in front of me. “What are you still doing here?”

I forced myself to take a deep breath and slow down. “I was helping.”

“The emergency is over.”