Max opened her eyes. Early morning sunlight was pouring through her window, warming her face and bouncing off of millions of particles of dust in the air. Her eyes started to focus, and where she expected to see a desk with her laptop on it and a house plant next to it, she saw a wardrobe in which very few clothes were hanging. Huh? Max looked around groggily. Am I in my old bedroom? The lack of other students noisily waking up and getting ready for classes confirmed that she was certainly not in her Blackwell dorm, and the tacky floral wallpaper told her that she was definitely back in her parents' home in the suburbs of Seattle. Max couldn't remember how she got there. In fact, she could barely remember anything from the last few… hours? Days? How long had it been since the tornado? She remembered her parents crying with relief as they hugged her on their doorstep. And she vaguely remembered being helped into the car by Chloe.

Chloe! Max sat up quickly, remembering her best friend. She looked around the room and found her sleeping in a chair opposite the bed. The orange sunrise did nothing to mask the brilliant blue of her messy hair which had fallen in front of her face. Max was sure she was sleeping, but Chloe's hands were balled up in tight fists, and twitched and shifted nervously in her lap. She must be having a nightmare Max thought. She reached for the glass of water on her end-table, but misjudged the distance. The glass toppled and thudded to the floor, sending water everywhere.

"Rachel!" Chloe screamed. She had jerked awake and her eyes looked around like a panicked doe, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, they rested on the girl sitting up in front of her.

"Oh, Max!" She sighed. The younger girl smiled as her best friend darted across the room and hugged her tightly. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! I thought you'd decided to sleep forever."

"What day is it?" Max rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Sunday."

"Sunday!?"

"Yeah." Chloe laughed a little. "You fell asleep as soon as we got here and you stayed that way all through Saturday. You missed out on some great cooking. You never told me that Ryan and Vanessa made such a good tag-team in the kitchen."

"Oh my god, my parents!" Max propped herself up against the headboard. "Are they alright?"

"You should have seen them. They heard the news like an hour before we got there. They'd been calling your cell constantly and they were getting ready to leave right when I was dragging you up to the door."

"You dragged me? Was I unconscious?"

"Nah, I don't think so. You started crying and just blubbing "I'm sorry… I'm sorry" over and over again. I don't think they noticed, though."

"How are they now?" Max looked toward the bedroom door.

"You can come and see them now if you want." Chloe gestured to the clock. 7:44 am. "I'll make you some breakfast"

Chloe might not take after Joyce in any meaningful way, but her breakfast-cooking skills were definitely on par with her mother's. Max's stomach growled as Chloe set down a plate of waffles and bacon, dripping with syrup. Max's parents, who had already eaten, were sitting across from her quietly. Her mother's brow was still furrowed with deep concern, her mouth a thin line as she stared at her daughter. Her father's eyes were closed, however, his mouth smiling behind a thick lumberjack's beard, glad that Max was now safe at home. Both her parents had been relieved to see her up and about, but they treated her very cautiously. Her mother talked to her like she was handling a live hand grenade with a loose pin. Her questions were very carefully worded and she never seemed to take her eyes off of her. Her father, a man of few words at the best of times, would usually sit back during these interrogations. He seemed content with the fact that Max (and Chloe) was alive, and would have preferred life to have gone on as normal without the constant flurry of questions. Both of them, however, were very happy to see that Chloe was so ready to be there for Max, and to make sure that she was never alone when she needed someone.

As Max ate, Vanessa spoke to her slowly, "So, Max… We've all been following the news since the storm. The coverage has been pretty much constant, so we feel like we should fill you in on what we know." Max stayed silent. A nasty feeling rising in her stomach. Vanessa continued, "There's still rescue operations going on, that's for sure, but lately they've been… pulling back on some of the effort. They're saying that there's not much more they can do."

"But what about the survivors?" This wasn't making sense to Max. It hadn't even been three days. "They are finding people aren't they?"

"Honey, it's not that simple. They-"

"How many have they found, mom?" Max was starting to panic.

Vanessa struggled to continue and looked to her husband for support, "Sweetie, they're doing the best they can" said Ryan, "Now, it's possible that-"

"How. Many."

Ryan sighed; his eyes met his daughter's. "It depends on who you ask. Some say twenty, others say fifty. But never much higher than that."

Fifty? "But that's just for now though, right?" Tears were starting to flow down Max's cheeks "They're gonna keep finding people, aren't they?"

"Max, it's been nearly three days. By this point, every hour it gets less and less likely that they're gonna find more people alive."

Max looked in disbelief at Chloe, who had a hand balled up in a fist against her face and eyes red with tears. "I'm so sorry, Max." She managed to whisper. Max just looked at her, mouth agape.

"Who…" she started, but choked on her words. "Have they… did they say who… who…"

"They haven't told us the names of anyone yet" said Ryan, his voice thickening. "Have you heard from any of your friends?"

Max shook her head numbly as she looked at her phone; she didn't have any texts or missed calls from anyone besides her mom and dad. Her stomach suddenly lurched and she turned to Chloe as she remembered David and Joyce.

"I've been trying to call them, but… Nothing." The blue-haired girl said through tears. Max only noticed then that she was holding her phone tightly in her hand and fidgeting with it; turning it over and over. Max moved over and grasped Chloe's free hand, rubbing it with her thumb. She wanted to say something but her mouth couldn't form a sentence. Instead, the pregnant silence amplified the strong air of worry in the room. It was clear that the damage was far more devastating that either girl had imagined.

Despite everything, Chloe made every effort she could to comfort her best friend over the next two days. Both mornings on Sunday and Monday, Max came downstairs to find Chloe slaving away in the kitchen making waffles, pancakes and bacon just like Joyce did at the diner. Chloe always had a smile, but Max could see the toll it took. She would often find Chloe sitting with her face in her hands or staring listlessly out the window with her phone constantly nearby. Chloe would always retreat to her spare bedroom hours before anyone else would at night, though she still had dark bags under her eyes each morning.

Early on Tuesday, Max was getting dressed into a pair of old jeans and a hoodie which barely fit anymore when her phone started ringing loudly on her end-table. Stunned for a moment, Max dashed over and answered it quickly.

"Hello?" Max could hear indistinct chatter in the background.

"Max!?" a familiar voice came from the other end.

"Oh my god, Kate! Is that you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Oh Max I'm so glad to hear you're okay!" Kate sounded out of breath and worn out, but Max had never been more thankful and relieved to hear her voice.

"Kate where are you? What's that noise in the background?"

"I'm at the hospital. I was here when the tornado hit, but it never got this far up the hill. I could see the whole thing from my room though. Oh Max, it was horrible. After it was over, emergency services started bringing people in. I suppose it was more convenient than flying them to Portland or something. The nurses and I have been working almost non-stop for nearly four days."

"The hospital. Of course!" Max said to herself. "Kate, how many people did they bring in?"

"I dunno" Kate didn't seem to want to answer the question "I haven't been counting and they've taken some people up to Portland. I dunno, maybe twenty-five or thirty?"

Max couldn't say anything. She didn't know why, but a small part of her had hoped for more than just thirty survivors.

"Listen, Max…" Kate continued, "You um… You need to come down here. To the hospital. Soon."

"Back to Arcadia bay?" Max was beginning to feel uneasy all of a sudden. "Why?"

"I don't know how to say this" Kate seemed rushed. "Some guys just brought Warren in on a stretcher about a half hour ago. He… He looks bad, Max." There was a pause, but when Max tried to say something Kate interrupted her. "Shoot. Look Max I have to go. Just please, please come down here as soon as you can. I don't know much about what's happening to Warren, but… it doesn't look good. Take care, now. Bye." And the line went dead. Max took a few moments to decide what to do next, and then went downstairs to find Chloe. The lack of cooking sounds and smells told Max that she must still be sleeping. "Good for her. She deserves it." Max went back upstairs and knocked on Chloe's door before opening it. The older girl squinted at Max from under the sheets before waking up all at once.

"Shit, I forgot to make you breakfast! Sorry!" Chloe started to get out of bed.

"No, don't worry" said Max, "We don't have time for that."

"Don't have…" Chloe was still waking up "Don't have time? Why not? Is everything okay?"

"I just got a call from Kate Marsh." Chloe's eyes lit up with hope. "She's at the hospital down in Arcadia Bay working as a nurse. She said that they just brought Warren in and that he's really sick or injured or something. Chloe, we have to go down there."

"Kate's at the hospital?" Chloe started to get dressed.

"Yeah. It wasn't hit by the storm at all."

"Did you ask about Joyce? Or David?"

Max's eyes fell to the floor and a lump rose in her throat. She hadn't asked about them. After all Chloe had done for her, she hadn't even thought of her parents.

"Don't worry, Max" Although she could tell that Chloe was a little hurt. "We'll go down there today and find out."

Max nodded and then suddenly remembered: "Warren might know. He was in the diner with Joyce when the storm hit. He probably knows whether she's…"

"Yeah." Said Chloe, a reassuring smile appearing on her drained face.

"You get dressed and ready" said Max. "I'll go and make breakfast." Max walked down the stairs to the kitchen, her spirits higher than they had been in a long time, but an unmistakeable feeling of intense worry and anxiety building up in her stomach.