CHAPTER 13
The Stairs
The building did not empty neatly.
Someone could not find a coat. Someone else insisted the warning applied to the next street. Dennis arrived carrying a torch and no spare batteries. Ben's rabbit refused to enter its new carrier.
Mara wanted to take charge of all of it. Instead, she opened the written plan and gave herself one task: help Ruth reach the transport pickup on dry ground.
The emergency coordinator on the phone confirmed the route. The rear exit was closed. Residents were to use the front stairs, remain out of the basement, and wait at the marked corner where accessible transport was being arranged.
Mara repeated the instructions to Dennis. He wrote them on the whiteboard, badly but legibly.
Ruth rose from the chair with both hands on her cane.
“I can manage.”
“I know. We're going slowly.”
The lift had stopped after the power flicker. They had expected that possibility. Expecting did not make the stairs shorter.
On the second landing, Ruth needed to rest. Mara kept one hand near her elbow without pulling. Above them, a neighbor helped Mrs. Alvarez. Below, Dennis checked the front door and returned to say the pavement was still clear along the approved route.
Ruth leaned against the wall.
“I hate this.”
“You're allowed.”
“I hate that you have to watch me do it.”
Mara swallowed. “I'd hate being upstairs wondering.”
Her mother nodded once and took the next step.
At the ground floor, Ben's mother was crying with frustration. The rabbit had finally entered the carrier, but the boy had gone back for its food. Mara called his name from the stairs. He answered from the first floor and came down holding a bag larger than the animal.
“Leave the extra things,” his mother said.
He clutched it harder.
Jun appeared behind him and took the bag. “I'll carry it. You carry the rabbit.”
The division of labor settled what argument could not.
Outside, rain struck sideways under the streetlights. Water ran along the gutter, carrying leaves toward the newly cleared drain. Farther down the road, a barrier crew was already blocking access.
Mara kept to the confirmed route. She did not follow the shorter path beside the market branch. In darkness, familiar ground could become a trap without changing its name.
At the crossing, Ruth stopped beneath the narrow shelter of a closed shop. Mara could feel the delay stretching behind them, but the route was still open and the coordinator had instructed them to move at a safe pace. She counted her own breaths instead of telling her mother to hurry. A volunteer carrying a reflective wand checked whether they needed assistance and waited while Ruth answered for herself. Yes, she needed an arm on the uneven pavement. No, she did not need to be lifted. The volunteer listened to both answers. Mara moved to the other side and carried the bag. Her mother's face changed, just slightly, when help arrived without taking the whole decision away from her. They reached the corner together, slower than the others and exactly as quickly as Ruth could safely manage.
Behind them, the volunteer checked the crossing again before guiding the next residents along the clear stretch of pavement.
At the corner, an emergency worker checked names and directed them into a covered loading area. Ruth sat beside Mrs. Alvarez while Mara called the coordinator to confirm they had arrived.
Then her phone rang.
Adrian.
She almost ignored it.
“I'm at the east quay,” he said. “The event equipment's still in the hall. Gideon told the caretaker to keep the backup generator running, but there's water coming through the service entrance.”
“Leave if the officials tell you to leave.”
“There's a guard who won't unlock the rear gate without authorization.”
Mara looked toward the emergency worker.
“Call emergency services. Tell them exactly where you are. Don't wait for Gideon.”
“He says the insurance—”
“Call now.”
She did not stay on the line to become an improvised dispatcher. She gave the location to the worker beside her, explaining that she could not verify conditions. The worker radioed it through.
On the transport van, Ruth gripped the edge of the seat each time they crossed a patch of standing water. The driver moved slowly and followed instructions from the road team. Mara watched his shoulders, taking reassurance from their ordinary concentration.
At the school shelter, volunteers checked them in. Ruth received a chair with arms. Mrs. Alvarez argued about her blanket until someone found one without a floral pattern. Ben placed the rabbit carrier beneath his table and sat guard.
Mara's body began shaking only after everyone had somewhere to sit.
Jun brought tea.
“Drink it before you decide to solve anything else.”
She obeyed.
Across the gym, a television showed the river. The east quay was closed. A reporter stood safely behind barriers describing water entering service areas. No injuries had been reported.
Mara called Adrian once. No answer.
She left a message asking him to confirm he was safe when able. Then she put the phone down. Waiting was difficult work, but it was still work.
At four, Nessa arrived with a hotel van full of clean towels and approved food deliveries. She had persuaded the night manager to coordinate with the shelter rather than simply turn up with donations nobody could use.
She found Mara sitting beside Ruth.
“You look terrible.”
“You look employed.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Nessa put a towel over Mara's shoulders. Neither said anything for a while.
At four twenty, Adrian texted.
Out. Guard too. Fire crew got the gate open. Thank you.
Mara showed Ruth.
Her mother read it and leaned back, eyes closed.
On the television, the Riverwatch dashboard appeared behind the reporter. Every marker was green.
Beneath the screen, a shelter volunteer was writing the actual road closures on a sheet of paper with a thick black pen.
Mara watched the pen move. Then she stood and asked whether the volunteer needed help making copies.