Imogene Scott

But instead of a shadowy figure or some deranged person, I see Damien standing there, a flashlight in hand. The relief is so overwhelming that I almost drop the bat.

My mind doesn’t stop to think about how and why he’s even here. Sure, he left earlier than us but he didn’t have to come right ahead if we were all heading to the same place. Right?

“Damien?” My voice is shaky. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by my reaction. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says, lowering the flashlight. “I got here early because one of...