PART 2 — THE NIGHT EVERYTHING WENT DARK
Three weeks later, something happened that changed everything.
It was a Thursday evening.
Rain had been falling since late afternoon, tapping steadily against my windows.
At around 10:40 p.m., I was reading in bed when the lights suddenly flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
everything went black.
The refrigerator stopped humming.
The air conditioner went silent.
The hallway outside disappeared into darkness.
The entire building had lost power.
I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight.
Outside, the courtyard was completely black.
Every window had gone dark.
Except one.
Daniel’s.
His apartment was glowing.
Not with electric light.
With candles.
Dozens of them.
I walked to my window.
I couldn’t explain why.
Maybe curiosity.
Maybe concern.
His curtains were partially open.
Through the gap, I could see him sitting at his kitchen table.
Alone.
There was no television.
No radio.
No phone in his hand.
Just candles.
And a small mechanical clock.
He held the clock carefully between his fingers.
He wound it.
Slowly.
Then he placed it on the table.
Beside it was a photograph.
I couldn’t see the face clearly.
Daniel stared at it.
He didn’t move.
For several minutes, he simply sat there.
The ticking of the clock seemed almost audible even from across the courtyard.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Then he reached toward the photograph.
He stopped before touching it.
His hand trembled.
He pulled it back.
And lowered his head.
Something inside me shifted.
This wasn’t someone who liked having the lights on.
This was someone who was afraid of what happened when they went out.
But why?
The next morning, I went downstairs.
Mrs. Alvarez was sitting near the entrance sorting mail.
She had lived in the building longer than anyone.
“Can I ask you something about Daniel?”
She looked up.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
“Why does he keep all his lights on?”
Mrs. Alvarez went completely still.
Then she sighed.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
She placed the letters on her lap.
“His wife died last year.”
I felt a strange pressure in my chest.
“I didn’t know he was married.”
“She was sick for almost two years.”
I sat down beside her.
“What happened?”
“She became afraid of the dark.”
I looked toward the staircase.
Mrs. Alvarez continued.
“It started near the end. She couldn’t sleep unless there was a light on.”
“What was she afraid of?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe the illness. Maybe being alone.”
She looked down at her hands.
“Daniel promised her something.”
“What?”
“He told her, ‘As long as I’m here, you’ll never have to wake up in darkness.’”
I said nothing.
Mrs. Alvarez continued softly.
“He started leaving every light on. Kitchen. Hallway. Bedroom. Bathroom. Everything.”
My throat tightened.
“And after she died?”
Mrs. Alvarez looked at me.
“He never turned them off.”
