Kyla jolted awake. There had been a storm that had only just quieted, leaving behind a strange glowing quality in the evening light.
Her mom and Dad were arguing outside the door. "Where were they?!" Dad demanded. She heard clumsy fumbling with a set of keys.
"In the day room!" her mom's voice was an octave higher than normal. "On the floor next to one of the tables! I don't know how they got all the way out there!"
"You guys, relax," Kyla called, backing away from the window. "I'm fine."
She watched the door because (sue her) she wanted to enjoy their expressions of fear and regret. They should feel regret. They'd locked her in here and then apparently lost the keys—during a huge, scary storm, no less.
She had her line all ready to say. Parents of the Year, guys.
So when the door flew open, she spread her arms wide. But at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to taunt them. Instead, she said, "Are you ready to listen to reason now?"
