Raindrops pelted her cheek, and she opened her eyes. Where am I? How did I get––? It suddenly came crashing back. Santa Lucia. Stefano. The earthquake! Her head throbbed as she tried to remember exactly what had happened. She slowly moved her bruised limbs, checking for injuries. Other than her head, everything seemed okay, but she was soaked and covered with mud. Shivering, she realized she must have lost her sweater sometime during the chaos. Gwen sat up and looked around as the rain softened to mist, foggy and gray. She could barely make out the rooftop of the church and the far walls of the garden. Pain, blinding pain. She slumped down, rubbed her brow, and then gingerly felt around, discovering a big bump near her hairline. After a few miserable moments, she murmured, “I should see a doctor.” She glanced at her watch, but couldn’t focus, then looked at the sky. It was dark and gloomy, but it wasn’t nighttime. When had the weather changed? How long was she out?
