Frame finds herself sitting on the lip of a dry fountain, staring up at the cracked concrete overhead, and the flowered gas-pipe, a thick dust still settling from hours earlier. Her eyes are dry and the tears wiped clean from her face.
Around her are the shattered windows of others’ homes, with splintered or twisted doors. Most everyone were inside their homes with the earthquake hit, and Frame herself had been the only one outside. She supposes the greater structure of the hub had suffered less than the hastily constructed homes. Frame has already checked the other homes in town, even the ones which had been deserted before the earthquake struck. She found no one still alive, with the exception of her mother, who died soon after.
<Did her father give her any advice for what to do in case of trouble?>
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