The house felt like a tomb, cold and silent except for the creaks of the old wooden floors beneath their feet. Jasmine hugged her daughter, Ellie, close to her chest, both of them wrapped in blankets, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the walls.

Outside, the wind howled, a relentless force that seemed to freeze everything it touched. The power had been out for hours, maybe days—Jasmine had lost track of time. The temperature inside their house had plummeted, the chill creeping into their bones despite the layers of clothing they wore.

"Mom, when is the power coming back on?" Ellie asked, her voice small, fragile, as she looked up at her mother with wide, trusting eyes.

Jasmine tried to offer a reassuring smile, though it felt like a mask. "Soon, sweetie. They’re working on it. I’m sure it’ll be back before long."

But she wasn’t sure. Not anymore. She had been watching the news updates, the reports of people trapped in their homes, water pipes bursting, whole cities losing power. This was no ordinary storm. This was a catastrophe.

The storm had caught everyone off guard. Texas wasn’t supposed to have snow like this, wasn’t supposed to endure temperatures this low. They were used to heat, to drought, to sunburns. The idea of a deadly freeze was foreign, yet here it was, crippling everything in its path.

Across the room, her husband, Marcus, was kneeling by the fireplace, trying to keep the embers alive. They had only a few logs left, and the cold seemed to suck the warmth out of the air the moment it arrived. He had been quiet for hours, his focus on the fire, but Jasmine could see the worry etched on his face.

“Water’s still frozen,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. “We’ve got maybe enough for one more boil of pasta.”

Jasmine’s stomach growled at the thought of food, but she swallowed the ache in her chest. “We’ll make it work. We’ll ration.”

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on her, as if searching for something in her face—hope, maybe, or the strength to keep it all together.

They were used to hardship, used to stretching their resources when times were tough. But this—this felt different. They couldn’t make the storm stop. They couldn’t make the temperatures rise. They couldn’t control the creeping desperation that had settled in their bones, that made their fingers numb just from holding a pencil or a mug.

Ellie crawled over to her father and curled into his lap. Her small body was a source of warmth, and Marcus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“Dad?” Ellie’s voice broke through the silence. “Are we going to be okay?”

Marcus kissed her forehead, the warmth of his lips the only comfort he could offer. “We’re going to be fine, Ellie. We just have to stick together.”

Jasmine walked over and sat beside them, tucking herself into the circle of their arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind, howling louder now, and the crackling of the fire.

They didn’t have much. The power was out. The water was frozen. The food was scarce. But they had each other. And in that moment, surrounded by the cold, by the chaos of the storm outside, that was enough.

Later that night, after the kids were asleep, Jasmine and Marcus sat together on the couch in the dark. The fire had burned low, but it was enough to keep the worst of the cold at bay.

“You think we’re going to make it?” Jasmine asked, her voice hoarse, not from the cold, but from the exhaustion of trying to stay strong.

Marcus didn’t answer right away. He leaned back against the couch, looking out at the shadows flickering on the walls. Finally, he spoke.

“I don’t know, Jas. But I do know this—we’re not doing it alone.”

Jasmine nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and fear. Outside, the storm raged on, unrelenting and cruel. But inside, in the small warmth of their home, they had found something that couldn’t be taken away.

They had each other. And for now, that was enough.