In a short period of time, they had gone from a cool summer breeze to a strong storm with hurricane winds. That was normal in that area, but for the Darae family it turned out to be quite a surprise.

They had already left the inn and were waiting for the carriage to take them home to the station. As soon as the first drops began to fall and the first thunderclaps exploded, Nayla, the youngest, clung tightly to her mother's skirt. She responded by hugging her and stroking her head.

“Everything’s alright”, she whispered in her ear, "it's just the sky, which has a little cold." The woman addressed her husband – “And now what do we do? I don't think the carriage is coming because of the weather...”

Without answering his wife, the man left the shelter which offered them a small wooden shed at the stop. This one squeaked dangerously due to the constant relentless impacts of the wind. He looked up the street, pointing with his hand.

“Do you see anything, father?”, the eldest son had followed him.

“Nothing, there does not seem to be anyone on the street either. We better get back with the girls”, he nodded to the shed.

Despite being uncovered for a few seconds, they came back soaking wet.

"Family," the father began as he arrived, leaving his wife in an attempt to ask him something, "we will have to think and go back to the inn. With this storm I do not think the transport is coming and” - looked for a moment at the rain that fell – “we can't stay here.”

“It's a shame” – the mother lamented herself, as she adjusted a cape to the frightened Nayla -, “it is a pretty sad ending for such a good holiday.”

"We can't complain," said his brother optimistically, "since they haven't cost us a penny. We could never have paid for a holiday like this!”

“Ha ha! You are absolutely right!” – the father exclaimed – “We were lucky to win that contest. A storm will not ruin this magnificent memory for us!”, he grabbed the biggest suitcase and squatted in front of her daughter. “Are you ready Nayla?”, he asked sweetly. “We will have to get a little wet and we will have to run under the thunderclaps, but once we arrive I will get you a very sweet baked apple, like the one you took yesterday, okay?”, he winked at her and she nodded. The prospect of such a succulent reward drew a disguised smile from her lips, but did not let the fear disappear in her eyes.

Between the brother and the father, they took all the luggage. Three large wooden suitcases upholstered with metal finishes in the corners. Surely, these must have been the most luxurious objects they had. Nayla took her mother's hand and Mr. Bear's, the felt bear that her brother had bought her that morning, as the next weekend would be her birthday. The mother reacted with a big smile and held her hands again.

“Ready, people?”, the father cried to be heard through the wind, as he was with the torch outside the protection of the wooden roof.

“Yes!”, the son and the woman replied vigorously.

“Let’s go!”