More laughing.
Dancing.
Twirling.
My hair swings around my shoulders.
I recognize a face in the darkness. A hockey player…
Max. That’s his name.
His muscled arm wraps around my waist. He leans in.
I smell his aftershave, the liquor on his breath, and then I see it over his shoulder…
A white van.
“I have to go…”
“What is it?” Doctor Warner prompts sharply as the memory melts away. “What do you see?”
“I…”
Another image appears.
Dad.
He’s shouting, red in the face.
For a change, he doesn’t seem angry—more panicked. Hysterical, even. He’s saying something. The same thing. Over and over.
“No. No. No. God no. Help me!”
He’s not alone. There’s another man. I can’t see him properly, but I sense his presence. He’s speaking, but his voice is garbled, like he’s underwater.
My eyes crack open. The stark white room is so bright that my retinas burn.
Cold metal chills my spine as I turn my head.
It can’t be…
To my right, Sarah lies on a metal-looking bench.
Her chest is still.
Her skin ghostly pale.
Her eyes frozen open in a haunting stare.
“What do you see?” Doctor Warner’s voice rings through the haze. “Tell me.”
I reach for her, extending my fingers, using all my strength, but Dad grabs my arm.
“It’ll be okay, Erin,” he says, stroking my cheek. “You’ll see.”
Back in reality, Doctor Warner’s firm hands shake my shoulders.
I sit bolt upright, gasping for air.
