Unpalatable (1)

"Is the electricity off?" Stephanie stood in the dark room, holding a candle sent by Harold, "When will recover?"

"I don't know. I'll go to check," Harold took the flashlight and walked out.

"Do you know how to repair it?" Stephanie ran into the room to change her shoes.

"You want to go?" Harold looked back.

"Well, I'm bored. I want to go with you," Stephanie threw the candle on the table, "I hated candles the most when I was young. When I did my homework, it always burned my hair."

Harold paused and said, "I'll make you a light later."

"Isn't the electricity off? What do you use to make a light?" Stephanie asked curiously.

Harold laughed.

It was dark all around, and only the straight light of the flashlight shone in front of him. Stephanie pulled his arm and asked, "Are you laughing?"

"No," Harold denied.

"Don't think that I can't see your expression under the gauze. I just heard it," Stephanie looked at his face suspiciously.

Harold was silent.