A muffled tornado siren wailed in the distance. I almost didn’t hear it at first. However, that was because my head was halfway submerged in the water in my bathtub. For a moment, I considered ignoring the warning. Usually, I would. If Carey was here, she would have made me get out of the bathtub and hide in the walk-in closet. However, she wasn’t, so I usually didn’t care.

What I did care about was the fact that the siren was growing more annoying every second. I wanted to stay under the surface and shut out the world. As I lay there, my mind couldn’t stay still. I found myself remembering the first night I shared a bathtub with my wife.

I could still remember her nervous laugh. It had been so awkward. Even though I had been much thinner back then, I was still over six feet tall. Considering the small size of the bathtub, it had been quite crowded with both of them in the tub. She hadn’t even let me keep the lights on. Still, it was one of my favorite memories.

The shriek of the siren clawed its way through my recollection, snapping me back to the present. I closed my eyes, sighing. After years of dealing with too much, I’d learned that I could ignore a lot. I’d ignored far worse things than a storm warning in my time.

I closed my eyes for a moment and then reluctantly decided to get out. I had been in the bathtub long enough anyway. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as I sat up.

I probably should have drained more water, I thought. It probably had something to do with the fact that I rarely drained enough cold water before adding more hot water. That meant the water was always dangerously close to overflowing.

Sighing, I stood up. Then I reached for the towel I had thrown over the shower curtain. I really do sigh too much, I thought. Although I didn’t want to admit it, I missed my wife asking me what was wrong every time I sighed.

Of course, I always told her there was nothing wrong. She didn’t need to know that I would buy the clearance bread and use ketchup packets to eat ketchup sandwiches at work. She also didn’t need to know that I hated talking to people at work, especially when they refused to give me the raises they had promised.

Even speaking with Carey had been difficult for me. Just having her by my side was more than enough for me. Despite the fact that she had died thirty years ago, I still missed her. Although she had loved Elizabeth more than me, she was still the one I had loved the most.

I reached down and pulled out the bathtub stopper before drying off. I shivered as I carefully stepped out of the tub, although not before throwing the towel onto the floor so that I could step onto it. I was quite accident prone and didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t want to have another operation.

Don’t want to step on this, I thought as I picked the Kindle up from the floor and put it on the sink. Then I grabbed my robe off the hook before opening the bathroom door. After shivering again, I quickly pulled on the robe. It had been a gift from Sarah last Christmas. The memory made me smile.

I had to admit, things certainly had changed since I was my daughter’s age. When I was her age, I kept dozens of fantasy books in the bathroom so that I could pick which one I would read next after finishing the first book. The Kindle made reading in the bathtub much easier.

I wonder if she would use the Kindle if I gave it to her. It’s not like I use it as much as I used to, I thought. I wonder what she is doing right now.

Although she was old enough to be on her own, the habit of worrying about her hadn’t worn off. Especially considering her nervous nature. There was a good chance she’d call any minute just to hear another reassuring voice besides that of her boyfriend. I could picture her dialing my number while picking away at her eyebrow.

And I thought I had issues, I consoled myself. However, after I started to worry about her, I couldn’t stop. Sarah still wasn’t good at dealing with even a little stress.

Hopefully, her boyfriend would be able to help her stay calm. I doubted it though. For a deputy, he was almost as skittish as she was. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made things worse.

Then again, maybe I am wrong. I barely know the boy, I thought. Sarah’s boyfriend barely registered on my radar. What was his name again? Although I probably should have felt bad for not remembering, I just didn’t care.

In fact, she might not even call. She might just send a text message. That was usually how we communicated. Because of this, I looked around for my phone.

Did I leave it on? I wondered. Is it even charged? A minute later, I found it under a plate with dried ketchup on it. After glancing at the charge, I was amazed to discover it still had almost a quarter of the battery left. As for the plate, I left it where it was.

I was curious to see if she had left a message. It would probably say something like, Hi, Dad, just checking in. Are you okay?

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Surprisingly, there was no message. I frowned. I really had expected her to send me something. She was an obsessive worrier. She was more skittish than that dog Troll had gotten rid of while Sarah was at school.

I’d spent days making an amazing doghouse for that dog, only for Troll to pretend that the dog got out and never came back. I still wasn’t sure exactly what happened.

Did she sell the dog? Did she just open the gate and shoo him away? I supposed it was possible she gave him away, but I doubted it. What was that dog’s name? Usually, I didn’t care about such things. However, I was curious.

I resisted the impulse to open my laptop and search for one of the pictures. The one reason I didn’t was because I knew it would take forever to locate the files. Anyway, it wasn't the time to search through my computer to find either the “lost dog” poster or the picture I had taken when I built his doghouse.

I had even put a framed picture of Sarah inside the dog house so that he could see her while she was at school. It was one of the few rare times I had to call in a favor and ask someone to help me move the dog house to my old house. I had been so desperate to leave that Troll that I had given up the house my grandmother had bought for me.

Marrying her had been the biggest mistake in my life. The only good thing that woman ever did was to give birth to Sarah. However, she had even managed to screw that up. I still wondered what Troll had done to Sarah. However, she never told me, or the psychiatrist.

Unfortunately, I knew that I would probably never find out. Sighing, I stared at the phone, almost as if I was waiting for a message to miraculously appear. Finally, I set it aside and got dressed.

I hadn’t spoken to Sarah in a few weeks. However, that was normal. We rarely even texted each other. She was probably sitting in her boyfriend’s storm shelter. For some reason though, I felt that I should check on her.

Unsure whether I should call, text, or go see her. I took a second to look around the house. I wanted to see if there was anything else I could give to Sarah when I dropped off the Kindle.

Then I frowned. I hadn’t really realized just how much I had given to Sarah. I didn’t have much left to give. About the only furniture left in the house was the bed and a cube organizer. I didn’t even have a recliner or a couch.

Then again, she probably had everything she needed. I should know, I thought, chuckling at how empty the house had become. I’ve given her just about everything.

Thinking about this, I walked toward the window while I waited for her call or message. Pushing aside the drapes, I looked into the darkness outside. The siren was starting to get on my nerves. Annoyed, I glanced at the phone and frowned.

Although it was completely different from ambulance and police sirens, it was still bothering me. I hadn’t dreamed about that night in weeks. I was certain that would change though. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before murmuring, “Peace, serenity.” After that, I took a deep breath before opening my eyes.

Then I checked for a text message. Seeing nothing, I thought, I guess I was wrong. I really thought she would contact me.

Not having anything to sit on in the living room, I went back to the bedroom. Then I sat on the edge of the bed. I stared at the phone for several minutes before I sighed and stood up once again. Then I walked back to the living room and looked from my phone to the open window.

I tried to ignore the feeling that something was wrong. I didn't need to go rushing over to her house. She was safe with her boyfriend beside her. Unfortunately, for some reason, I didn’t believe that to be true.

It won’t hurt to drive by her home just to make sure everything is alright, I thought. Afterall, it was windy and they did live in a trailer.

Rain began to hit the window harder as the wind picked up speed. She's fine, I told myself. She’s a grown woman who has a storm shelter. Well, actually, I guess it isn’t hers since it was the boyfriend’s trailer.

It’s actually not that bad, I tried to convince myself. I hadn’t been inside their home yet, but it did look okay from the outside. At least the previous owners built a storm shelter.

I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. Don’t judge, I reminded myself.

Then I went to the closet and grabbed my old leather trench coat. Mimi had given it to me when I was around eighteen years old. Although it was showing some signs of age, it still worked just as well as when she bought it for me.

After she gave it to me, I remembered watching my shadow as I walked. I felt so cool wearing it, especially at night. Even years later, the thrill remained. This was especially true after The Crow comic book came out. Until then, I had always imagined I was a vampire.

Snorting, I dismissed those thoughts as my eyes flickered to the window again. Although I couldn’t see a lot in the darkness, I could hear the tree branches creaking outside my window. I smiled and gave myself a nod of approval since I had cut down all the dead trees before I retired. Having a tree fall on my house once was more than enough.

Part of me was still amazed that I had actually been able to retire. Actually, I’m surprised that I didn’t die long ago, I thought. It seemed like everyone else in my family had died early deaths.

How depressing, I thought as I walked to the kitchen and picked up my truck keys from the top of the refrigerator. Then I glanced around before heading toward the door. Then I paused and wondered, Why did I bother looking around?

Pushing aside such thoughts, I opened the door. The wind hit me first and cold hit me. Although the trench coat was waterproof, it wasn’t much help against the cold. Pulling the coat tighter, I started walking toward my truck.