"Damn it, Ben, what do you mean you sold our house? WE don't have a house. We're divorced. I have a house and you have one."

"I sold the one I live in. I'm going to live with you again. It's better for the kids and we need the food I got for the sale. We haven't put up enough for winter."

"I don't want you to live with me. We're divorced. It's over."

"Fine. I'll take the kids and go."

"The hell you will."

"How can you stop me? Do you really think you can watch them every minute of every day? I only have to have a single moment of opportunity and I can be gone with them. We should be moving on anyway."

"NO. We are not moving again. It's taken two years to make this place livable."

"That's the problem Rachel. People notice you and your technology addiction."

"Technology? I designed a windmill to pump water and grind grain. The Greeks were using windmills to power machines in the first century. This is not cutting edge."

"An attractive woman with extensive knowledge of engineering is the kind of thing that gets noticed."

"You sexist pig. I love how you blame me for this and then you claim credit for the work. You're amazing. Really. No one even knows I designed the windmills. You told them it was all your idea and no one even questioned it."

"You think no one noticed you subtly directing the work? Tweaking the designs as we built?"

"How could they with you constantly ordering me back to the kitchen? It was worse than when we were married."

"Well, we aren't married, but we do have children to consider. I won't let your vanity get them killed."

"Clean running water is not vanity!"

"This discussion is over, Rachel. I have nowhere to sleep tonight but I do have a lot of food. If you want to explain to the kids why Daddy has to sleep in the town square with his wagon full of groceries be my guest."

With that Ben walked away. He abandoned the conversation and left her to deal with the fallout of his decisions. It felt familiar and infuriating. Rachel sat down in the rocker on her porch and tried to calm her racing pulse. The wind in the leaves made a sound that rattled her frayed nerves and the smell from the smokehouse burned her throat. Calming herself enough to talk to the kids was going to be a challenge.

"Rachel?" a voice quietly inquired.

"Hi Aaron."

"Actually it's Sandro Dynamite at the moment. We're running the role playing game over on the picnic table. There are a bunch of new cards in the deck and and I need you to complete my mission."

"Really? I don't play all that often. How did I get involved?"

"I have to sing a song to the one my heart desires. As you know, Sandro has feelings for Esmeralda."

"I know, but I never understood what he sees in her."

"Really? You don't see it? Esmeralda is like a lake, a reservoir. Quiet, deep, and powerful. Her stillness satisfies Sandro's need for a place of safety in a mad world. He'd do anything for her if only she'd notice him."

"She notices. She just doesn't know what to do next."

"At the moment all she needs to do is listen to a song."

Aaron sang, a song they both loved from before the blackout. His voice occasionally wavered but his heart was true. He sang of love, destiny, promises and holding each other tight through the storm. In that moment with Aaron, Rachel found the peace she needed to face what was to come.