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the daylight.”
    A general protest rose from the crowd around the fireplace, expanding to take in the weather, the lack of power andentertainment options and the miserable state of their adolescent world in general. The whines and complaints came at Jayne as only the most recent coating on a snowball of stress and tension that had been rolling downhill for the last two days, growing larger with every moment and now barreling straight at her.
    She dropped into the nearest chair, her hands clamped tight together. In a minute she would regain control.
    “Hey, girls! Shut up!” The shout actually echoed in the large room. Through the silence that followed, all eyes turned to the source of the command.
    “That’s better.” Standing just inside the library door, Chris Hammond surveyed each of them in turn, one eyebrow lifted in sardonic question over those steel-blue eyes. “Is this a bunch of five-year-olds? You sound like it.”
    Resentment flared on several faces. Yolanda opened her mouth to speak.
    Chris held up a hand. “No excuses. This is far from the worst place you could be holed up during a blizzard. From what I heard at dinner, most of you chose to stay at school over the holiday.”
    Yolanda’s mouth shut.
    “Right now you’re warm, there’s food and drink and you’ve got company. You could be in the Middle East, holed up in a cave, looking for an enemy you can’t see even in the daytime. No fire allowed, only water to drink, and freeze-dried food from a bag for Christmas dinner.”
    “Have you done that?” Taryn asked, curling one of her frizzy brown pigtails around her finger.
    “I’ve traveled with the soldiers carrying the guns. My weapon of choice is a camera.”
    A photojournalist, Jayne thought, as her hands began to relax. Interesting.
    “Can we see your pictures?”
    He dragged a ladderback chair near the fire. “Didn’t bring my camera on this trip.”
    “Do you work for a newspaper?”
    “I usually freelance—I come up with projects and then look for an editor who’s interested.”
    Beth Steinman, whose expensive and stylish haircut branded her a resident of Manhattan, asked, “Have you ever published pictures in the New York Times?”
    “Three articles last year.”
    “Wow.”
    “How about the L.A. Times? ” Selena Hernandez represented the West Coast at Hawkridge.
    “I just sold them a piece, and they asked for more.”
    “Cool!”
    His genuine smile was just as nice as Jayne had expected. “I have a blog, too. I post pictures and articles on The View from Here.”
    “So we could find you online?” The girls sat up in excitement, then all fell back to their usual slumps. “No electricity, no Internet.”
    “Something else to look forward to when the power returns.” Jayne got to her feet. “With the heating off, we’ll have to sleep near the fire. We’re going to the dormitory now so each of you can change into pajamas, robes and slippers. A scarf or a soft hat might be a good idea—you’ll stay warmer if you sleep with your head covered. Then you can bring sheets, blankets and pillows back down and we’ll get set up for the night.”
    The predictable protests ensued.
    “So early?”
    “I’m not sleepy.”
    “I stay up till midnight, at least.”
    “I can’t sleep without my tunes.”
    Jayne held up her hands for silence. “We’ve got a school full of books,” she reminded them. “Also games, puzzles, paint kits…you can choose whatever you want to do.”
    The walk through the dark halls by flashlight and the pajama-clad procession back to the library, dragging bedding and stuffed animals, only seemed to drive the energy level higher. A pillow fight erupted and threatened to soar out of control until Jayne pointed out what could happen if flying pillows caught fire. Hunger struck next, and no one seemed to be satisfied with cold candy, cheese and crackers. The absence of a microwave oven brought tempers and tears almost to the breaking point.
    Without