POV: Clara

The storm sputtered, but it didn’t abate. Rain fell in lazy rivulets down the rooftops above, sliding into gutters, sloshing into the puddles in the alley. Everything was louder, somehow, the faint trickle of water and the slap of it against stone and the sudden thud of a door somewhere down the street. The world was coming back to life, people were returning to their homes, lights flickered in their windows, their voices were muffled by the walls of their houses and by ...