Chapter 17

Yves blinked his bleary eyes into the darkness, his hand fumbling blindly across the silky bedsheet. He was alone in a bed that surely wasn’t his, but a quick sniff of the pillowcase reminded him he was in Timothy’s room. As disgusting as it was, he wouldn’t mistake the subtle musty odor mixed with his lavender-scented fabric conditioner that made his nose crinkle a little.

Swinging his legs to the side of the bed, Yves searched for his eyeglasses through his blurred vision, but a movement across the room stopped him. “Tim?” he called. “Where did you put my glasses?”

No answer. Only the low creak of the door opening.

After checking on the nightstand and finding nothing, Yves stood and took a few cautious steps toward the door. He fumbled for the light switch, but the repeated clicks didn’t light up the room. “Black out?”

That was unexpected, but why now of all times? He hadn’t recalled any announcements of a power interruption. The sky was clear; the light of