The Midnight Test

Now he fixed ticket machines and bad wiring for the grocery store and half the town’s older businesses. He looked up when she came in and asked the first thing he always asked when she was pale. “What happened to you?” “Broadcast room wiring,” she lied. Ben studied her for a beat, then pushed a mug of warm milk across the table. “Don’t stay up too late. Tomorrow is course registration, and the community station fundraiser is in the morning.” Mara nodded, but her eyes drifted to the old tin box beside the sink. Her father never let her touch it. Inside was a faded cassette with a label that read: 6/14/98 / Night Test / Do Not Replay. When she looked up, Ben’s fingers had gone white around the screwdriver.