Beth didn\'t sleep well and woke up exhausted. The storm had hit in full fury last night, bringing heavy wind and massive amounts or rain, dwarfing the previous deluge. The day before, she couldn\'t have imagined the water getting any deeper, but when she looked out the window, the office looked like an isolated island in the midst of the ocean. Last night, she\'d pulled her car onto a spit of higher land near the magnolia tree; good thing, she realized now. It, too, was its own little island, while the water nearly reached the high floorboards of Nana\'s truck. The truck had always managed well in floods, but it was a good thing that the brakes had been fixed. Otherwise they would have been stranded. Last night, she\'d taken it into town to buy a gallon of milk and a few other basic necessities, but the trip had been pointless. Everything was closed, and the only other vehicles that she\'d seen on the road were utility trucks and SUVs driven by the sheriffs department. Half the town was without power, but so far their house was unaffected. If there was one bright spot, it was that TV and radio reports predicted the last of the storms would roll through today; tomorrow, hopefully, the water would begin to recede. She sat in the porch swing outside while Nana and Ben we playing gin rummy at the kitchen table. It was the one game in which they were equally matched, and it kept Ben from getting bored. Later, she figured she\'d let him splash around in the front yard while she went to check on the dogs. She\'d probably give up any attempt to keep him dry and simply let him wear his swimsuit; when she\'d gone out earlier in the morning to feed the dogs, her raincoat had been useless. Listening to the sound of the rain drumming steadily on the roof, she found her thoughts drifting to Drake. She wished for the thousandth time that she could talk to him and wondered what he would have said about the photograph. Had he, too, believed in its power? Drake had never been particularly superstitious, but her heart lurched every time she recalled his inexplicable panic at the loss of the photo. Nana was right. She didn\'t know what Drake had experienced over there, and she didn\'t know what Logan had, either. As informed as she tried to be, none of it felt real to her. She wondered about the stress they felt, thousands of miles from home, wearing flak jackets, living among people who spoke a foreign language, trying to stay alive. Was it impossible to believe that anyone would latch on to something he believed would keep him safe? No, she decided. It was no different from carrying a St. Christopher medal or a rabbit\'s foot. It didn\'t matter that there was nothing logical about it—logic didn\'t matter. Nor did an absolute belief in magic powers. If it made someone feel safer, it simpl............