For days afterwards they would beg for more scary stories, but Ricky always shook his head and proclaimed that scary stories were only for storms. Tessa sometimes tried to comply with her children’s demands, but since her reaction to storms was to curl up and block out all sound until they were over, she never succeeded in telling a story as good as Daddy’s.

“Alright, alright, calm down. It’s just a storm, it’s ok.” Tessa found her way over to Carly in the dim, sickly yellow light sliding eerily in from the windows and scooped her up.

“I want Spongebob!” choked out Tony. Tessa rolled her eyes.

Rachel’s small hand suddenly touched Tessa’s leg and Tessa jumped in the dim light. “Tony, the power is out, there is no Spongebob, right Mommy?” intoned Rachel in the pompous voice she had recently developed for use with her younger siblings.