Free Dark Without You by Sue Lyndon

recapturing that sense of home, no matter where she went or what she did. It was a bleak outlook, and Alice felt as if she were trapped in a tunnel with no light at the end, only black as far as the eye could see.
    The lights flickered. The storm was growing worse, and she decided to prepare in case the electricity went out. In the kitchen she gathered matches, a couple of votive candles, and a large flashlight. The lights flickered twice more, so she placed the candles strategically around the house and lit them—one in the bathroom, two in her bedroom, two in the living room, one in the kitchen, and one in the foyer.
    She recalled how she would slip into her parent’s bed during a thunderstorm when she was a child, and a she smiled at the memory. This house was full of memories, good and bad. Mentally and physically exhausted, she curled up with the flashlight on the couch and tried to focus on the good ones. She finally drifted to sleep, dreaming of her mother’s singsong voice and her father’s warm brown eyes.
    When she awoke several hours later, the strong smell of fresh-brewed coffee caused her to bolt upright on the couch. She held the flashlight out in front of her like a weapon, her eyes flitting around the room until they met with angry blue ones.
    “Andy?”
    “Alice.” His voice was clipped. He rose to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with a cup of coffee and placed it in her hands. “Drink it.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t like coffee.”
    He looked down at her crossly. “We need to have a conversation, Alice. I want to make sure you’re awake. Drink. It. Now.” The clenching of his jaw perplexed her as much as it frightened her. What right did he have to be mad?
    Despite this, Alice found herself taking a sip of the coffee. It wasn’t so bad. He’d added plenty of cream and sugar. He stood guard above her until she’d finished half the cup. If it hadn’t been steaming hot, she would’ve hurled the beverage in his face.
    When he finally sat in the nearby chair, his angry expression melted into one favoring disappointment. Alice stared back and had the sudden inclination that she’d done something wrong, but she shook the feeling away. She’d been used and tossed away like a paper plate at a picnic. He was in the wrong—not her. But why the hell was he sitting in her living room?
    Andy drew a deep breath. “Did Rich ask you to join the tour to keep me happy?”
    Oh God. Alice felt herself crumble inside and gazed at the floor. What a fucking mess her summer vacation had turned into. Most of her friends were soaking up the sun in Ocean City—well, when it wasn’t raining—and here she was getting her heart trampled on and having the blame thrown her way at the same time.
    “Answer me, Alice. Is it true?”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    “So it was all a game for you, then? Nothing between us was real?” Anger had crept back into his voice, and Alice couldn’t decide who she hated more—herself or Rich.
    “It wasn’t a game!” Her eyes shot up and she held his gaze in challenge. “It was real and it was wonderful— to me . You can still go live your life though. Go open your stupid music store with Madison.”
    “What are you talking about? I don’t want anything to do with that girl. She was a mistake.”
    Alice snorted. “I met her, Andy. She came looking for you at the hotel. She said you’d called her and begged her to come back. She told me all about the plans you two made together for after the tour.”
    Andy shot out of his chair, causing Alice to flinch. “I’m allowed to have a past. Yes, I was with Madison for a few weeks. And yes, we talked about the future, but those plans died when she left. I didn’t beg her to come back. I’ve had no contact with her whatsoever. Rich found her and convinced her to come back. Your brother fucked up big time, Alice. And you —I can’t believe you left Memphis without even saying