A shadow passes over her face, but she shakes it off fast as she leans forward, her bright-blue hair swinging over her shoulder and clashing with her pumpkin-orange shirt. “You think you’re the only one who wants to bring back someone they love? ...
Time isn’t a line or a circle or any 2-D object, Aisling had written. It’s more like you’re standing inside of a sphere of constantly flowing energy. When you find that center, you can reach out and touch any part of your life.
Be direct and sure of the path you tread, but not so sure that you pass the paths better suited to your feet, brother.
Don’t be stupider than you need to be, I remind myself. Remember Calease? The last glowing girl you talked to tried to kill you.
In the last three months, I’ve started having creepy dreams that give me a glimpse of the future. Or sometimes a portal will open up in the middle of the night and something will try to kill me. There’s no way to know which one I’m gonna get hi...
Near my feet is a glowing archway. The light is white and shimmery, like iridescent glitter, and it’s so tall the top nearly brushes the ceiling. Inside, instead of seeing the cement wall of the basement, I’m looking at evenly spaced wooden pilla...
Less than twenty-four hours ago, I had a family and a home and a dreamworld I thought was as close to heaven as you could get without dying. I have none of that now. My brother is dead. My parents threw me out of the house—again—with barely enoug...
K.T. stops dead in her tracks, her eyes locked on Horace’s car. “Holy crap,” she mutters, eyes wide. “Is that a ’69 Camaro SS?” I glance back at her as I unlock the door. “Yeah. You know cars?” She shakes her head, her lips trembling....
I see the glow before I see her. The orange light is so strong it’s hard to believe the house isn’t on fire, but when feet appear at the top of the staircase, I can finally see that the light isn’t coming from the house. It’s coming from her....
After all the shit that went down with Calease, I hate sleeping the way some people hate airplanes. Or small, dark spaces. Or spiders. Or being on an airplane in a small, dark space filled with spiders.
I tell myself I have time. But the itch forming along the back of my neck and across my shoulders says otherwise. I hate this. It’s like I’m racing a clock ticking down to doomsday without knowing how much time I have left.
K.T. sighs. “If you mess with her head, I’ll personally hunt you down, but otherwise, good luck. If you can get her to talk, you’re a freaking miracle worker. Hell, if you can get her to actually smile, her parents might throw you a party.
I didn’t think you were real for a long time,” I confess. “I thought you were someone I’d dreamed up.” “A dream worth reliving every night for ten years?” he asks, chuckling and slowly loosening his hold. “For eternity,” I whisper, ...
Horace’s eyes get wide, and he glances between me and the house. “Every time I think I got a grip on this crazy shit going on in your head, I realize I don’t know the half of it, do I?” My eyes tracing the red trim of the house, I shake my he...
Hudson looks at me, waiting for what I was trying to say, but no matter how many times I try, the words won’t come. My chest contracts, and panic knocks my thoughts into disarray faster than a tornado. For years, I was silent by choice. Now, chokin...
My gaze lands on the digital clock on my nightstand as it flicks to 12:01 AM. Hours spent in Orane’s world, and one minute has passed in mine.
