Days passed. Harper worked, and I drifted around the house, unfeeling and uncaring – until the nightly terrors struck, and my body shook with fear and sobs. I did not feel the pain of my hand, or the stitches in my neck, but as soon as darkness fell the pit in my stomach grew, morphing along with the faces in the shadows until my throat closed around my screams. I relieved the same day over and over. I ran the fingers of my right hand down the banister, along the back of the sofa, across the tatty Christmas table cloth Harper had put in the kitchen. I tried to force myself back into my old life, to make my new self fit with a past that no longer existed. Needless to say, it didn’t work. I did not eat, save for the meals that Harper cooked for me. It took too much concentration, and I could not be distracted for even a moment. Anyone could strike, when I was home alone like this. I had been saved by my team, and by Cyrus, too many
Last Updated : 2021-04-22 Read more