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Outside, the neighborhood looked fine, which might be misleading, since on the outside, their house looked like it had held up well.
“Does anyone know what magnitude hit? It felt huge, but there isn’t much damage out here,” Tanya said, not sounding like she expected an answer.
“I need to get a hold of Neil.” Stella fiddled with the useless phone in her hands, relegated to no more than a paperweight at this point.
A car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. Stella couldn’t see who it was, but if she had to bet, she’d go with Monica.
“Monica!” Stella shouted, taking a chance. The figure stopped at her shout before turning to head in their direction.
“Is everyone okay?” Monica asked, jogging up to the group. “We saw the cameras go out when the earthquake hit and wanted to ensure everyone’s safety.” She scanned the group on the sidewalk.
“Mostly just superficial cuts, but something hit Stella in the face, so she might need someone to look at her,” Avery summarized.
“We’ve got another house ready for you. Let’s get you situated there. We have a few emergency personnel waiting there for anyone who needs medical assistance. We’ll figure the rest out later. Okay?” Monica waited while they all looked at each other.
“Lead the way,” Riley said, deciding for them all.
The group headed to the car. Once settled, Stella looked back at the house one last time, surprised they hadn’t been crushed in the aftermath.
Chapter 12
Tea Time
The new sounds of an unfamiliar place kept Avery up long past when her body was ready to shut down. She hadn’t realized how different the noises of the last house were until she was thrust into the new place. At least Riley’s snores were still familiar.
The new house was smaller, and by the power of Hollywood, came fully stocked within two hours. It had four bedrooms, which meant she and Riley were still sharing while Elizabeth and Tanya took the other room down the hall. Like the other house, Stella and Quinn each got their own space in the secret upstairs that the contestants weren’t allowed to visit.
Avery replayed the event of the earthquake, the helplessness she’d felt at getting stuck and how Stella had guided her out of a panic attack. Luckily, it was Stella who had been stuck in that room with her and not someone who would have made her feel like a fool for her emotions.
Sighing, she turned on her side, giving her pillow an extra punch for not being more comfortable. The crickets chirped out the window as the house creaked in strange patterns. No, that was footsteps. Slowly raising her head, she listened carefully, holding her breath to hear better.
Someone was in the kitchen. It could be anyone—well, except for Riley since she was snoring away on the other side of the room. It could be one of the camera crew, who would now follow them around in the house since it wasn’t set up for twenty-four-hour surveillance. Or it could be the person who increased her heart rate, whose name wasn’t far from her mind—or lips.
Tiptoeing out of the room, she followed the soft light of the fridge. In the shadows of the darkened house, she couldn’t make out who was hidden behind the open door, but she waited whilst the woman rummaged through the drawers.
Her shoulders slumped when she saw it wasn’t Stella. “Quinn,” she whispered once she got confirmation.
“Oh shit.” Quinn jumped, clearly startled at the intrusion.
“Sorry, I thought me saying your name would make it less of a surprise, but I now realize saying your name in a quiet, dark room would be alarming no matter what.” Avery chuckled, stepping further into the kitchen. She liked Quinn. They got along great and tended to have similar humor. The show would have been a vastly different experience if she hadn’t met Stella beforehand.
“Yeah. That’s not cool, Avery. I’m sure my soul hit the ceiling when it left my body. Someone might have a mess to clean up tomorrow.” She dumped the food on the counter and turned on a small lamp. “Come eat your feelings with me. It’s been a hard day, and sometimes you need good ol’ junk food to get you through.”
“Nothing that cookie dough won’t fix,” Avery agreed, trying a few drawers before she found the silverware. Plucking out two spoons, she handed one to Quinn. “Want me to start some tea?”
Quinn wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like tea.”
“Really? What kinds have you tried?”
“My uncle always had this lemon one that tasted like cleaning chemicals.”
“What, you don’t like Lysol tea?” Avery turned, faux affronted.
“I know, I know. It’s such a shocker.” Quinn chuckled goodnaturedly.
“How about this? I’ll make some, you try it, and if you don’t like it, I’ll never bring up tea in your presence again.”
“I suppose I can try?” Quinn’s voice held trepidation and a question.
