I looked at my parents, my heart racing. This is too early. My brain was blaring the thought as if it were a warning siren of its own. This is too early. Jamie is still out in the fields. We were supposed to have another hour, at least, before the storm hit.

Looking around the table, I could tell the others were having the same thought. The only person who seemed blissfully unaware of the danger bearing down on us was Isaiah, who was happily mashing the pieces of banana Mama had cut up for him to eat.

“Well, that’s all for lunch,” Mama said, ever the pragmatist, as she got swiftly to her feet and started clearing plates. Her voice was light, but I could see from the firm set of her mouth that she was nervous.

Outside, the sky was darkening quickly—a clear indicator that a cyclone cloud couldn’t be far off.

“Jane, get ready to go into the bunker,” my dad said quietly as he got to his feet and strode to the front door, looking out over the fields.

“Any sign of Jamie?” Mama asked him.

He shook his head, his brow furrowed. Jamie was the family’s firstborn, and at twenty-two years old—one year older than me—I knew he could handle himself. He was smart and strong. But even so, my big brother was no match for a tornado.

I exchanged glances with Peter, our tiff forgotten in our worry for our brother.

“Aurora, get your baby brother,” Mama said tersely.

I scooped Isaiah up out of his high chair and held him close.

“I’ll go look for Jamie,” Peter announced, jumping to his feet and heading for the door.

“The hell you will!” Dad exclaimed, stepping in front of Peter and blocking his path.

I stopped, shell-shocked, and turned to stare at my dad.

“James!” Mama exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Daddy never cursed. Ever. Him dropping the H-bomb was enough to stop the whole family short. Peter paused in his tracks, looking like a scared rabbit.

“Jamie will hear the sirens and come in on his own,” Dad said simply. “I want all of you in the bunker. Now.”

When our dad spoke like that, nobody argued. Peter and I followed Mama silently to the bunker. Daddy grabbed a giant metal ring and heaved up the wooden hatch door in the floor that led to the bunker. Mama, flashlight in hand, led the way down the rickety wooden stairs into the damp, earthy bunker. I followed, Isaiah still in my arms, while Peter brought up the rear.

At the bottom, we turned our faces up to Dad, standing at the top of the stairs.

“I’ll stay here and leave the doors open so Jamie can join us quickly,” he said quietly.

“James—” Mama started to speak, but he cut her off.

“Stay there.”

Mama, Peter, and I cowered in the damp bunker. Isaiah was the only one who wasn’t bothered. He thought coming down here was some kind of fun game. I put him down, and he happily toddled around, stamping his feet on the concrete floor.

“Rora, play with me!”

He ran up and down the length of the small bunker, giggling. I halfheartedly chased him, but I couldn’t shake my worries. We could hear the heavy rain starting upstairs, and the banging of doors and shutters blowing open and closed as the wind picked up.

Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it over his head, trying to get service. Good idea, I thought as I pulled out my own phone. Maybe we could call Jamie and find out where he was. But when I pulled my phone out, I saw I didn’t have service either.

The wind and rain grew louder. I looked up to the sound of footsteps coming down the bunker stars. It was just my dad, alone.

“Any sign of him, James?” Mama asked nervously.

“No. And the storm is getting too wild. We need to close up.”

His voice was grim as he pulled the bunker door down after him.

“Shall we pray, James?”

He nodded and gestured for us to gather around. I picked up Isaiah and snuggled him close, burying my face in his hair.

“Blessed Father who art in heaven, to you we pray…”

The rest of us stayed silent as Daddy’s voice rolled through the bunker. I screwed my eyes shut and clung to Isaiah, my heart racing. I felt guilty. I couldn’t help thinking that my impure thoughts had brought this on us. If something happened to Jamie, I would never forgive myself. I’ll never have lustful thoughts again, I vowed. I won’t have sex until marriage. I was determined to resist all temptation.