I groaned, reaching deeper into my memories, trying to remember. Mom said the trauma we all went through was why we blocked it from our minds, the pain of seeing Alice hurting herself and possibly others. But who called the police? Who found the facility so fast? She was home one minute and, in a blink, locked up. It didn’t make sense they took her straight to a mental ward and not to the hospital.
It all seemed strange.
Memories weren’t reliable and could shift with perception. But I had a tickle at the back of my neck and the feeling of knowing something, but I couldn’t puncture through, letting it gush from my lips. It hovered around me, buzzing and irritating, but never revealing itself.
“That had to affect you.”
“It did.” The words croaked from my throat, my head turning to the window.
“Here, have some water.” Dr. Bell poured a glass from the pitcher on the coffee table, handing it to me. The cool water drizzled down my throat, clearing away the emotions clogging my airways. It was like drinking pure snow; the refreshing taste had me guzzling down the rest.
“Thank you.” I set down the empty cup, my attention latching to a drop trailing down the side of the glass. We sat in silence for a moment, her regard expectant, waiting for me to speak. My hand brushed over my face, and the instinct to run, to get away from this office, was palpable.
This is silly. Why am I here? I’m not my sister. I’ve had a few bad dreams, making me paranoid.
“Can you tell me about the dream you had last night?” As if she read my thoughts, Dr. Bell’s voice nipped at my ear.
“It’s nothing.” I shifted in my seat, my gaze going back outside. The night gobbled up the last of the light, drenching the small enclosed area behind the office in shadows. My stare caught on something next to the tree.
Hot terror wrapped my ribs, filling my stomach, my chest puffing for air.
“Dinah?” She called my name, but once again it seemed far away, my attention locked on the figure.
Oh god, not again.
“Do-do you see it?” I pointed. “By the tree.”
“See what?” Dr. Bell sat up, squinting to peer into the dark. “I don’t see anything.”
“R-right there,” I stammered.
“Dinah, nothing is out there.”
But I saw it. Deep in the murky shadows, a huge outline of a hooded figure watched me, digging into me. Fear buzzed over my skin, prickling it in goosebumps, freezing me in place. I couldn’t make out any detail from here, but this wasn’t the first time I had seen the hooded figure watching me.
“Dinah…” A man’s voice whispered around me, making me jolt out of my seat with a cry. “It’s almost time.”
“Oh my god.” My calves shoved back into the sofa. It had never spoken to me like that.
“Dinah?” Dr. Bell called for me. My head whipped to her. Her blue eyes filled with worry and confusion. She peered out the window, her brows furrowing.
My attention shot back outside. The spot by the tree was empty. The courtyard was small and fenced. No way someone could have gotten out so quickly without notice.
My nerves trembled, and I felt a sensation of being strangled, the air being pulled from my lungs. My dreams were reaching into the daylight, becoming more and more real.
“Are you all right?” Dr. Bell reached for my arm. “Dinah?”
The instant her fingers touched me, panic gripped my throat, needing to escape.
“I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my bag on the ground. “I shouldn’t be here. It was a mistake…”
“Dinah—”
“Thanks for your time.” I rushed for the door.
“Dinah, wait!” She jumped up, but I was already out. I jogged down the hall, vacating the three-story brick building and rushing out into the frigid evening.
Bending over, I sucked in deep breaths, my sticky skin relishing the icy temperatures. It would snow soon; I could taste it on my tongue.
Standing up, I took another deep gulp of air.
Buzzzz
My cell vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out, figuring it might be the therapist’s office wondering what the hell just happened. My shoulders sank with relief seeing Gabe’s number.
“Hey, boss man.” I tried to sound like my cheerful self, but my throat strangled out the greeting.
“Oh, I like when you call me that, Liddell Two.” Gabe’s raspy smoker’s voice was heavy with innuendo. Even though my sister didn’t work there anymore, he still called me Liddell Two.
“Don’t make it gross.” I rolled my eyes. The manager of Santa’s Workshop had quit. He and his wife were moving to Hawaii, and Gabe took over the position. Not because he was any good at it, but because it was easy, and he had no motivation to do anything but smoke pot and dress in a Santa suit. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” He snorted. “Well, besides piles of money, some tacos, and endless weed, I wouldn’t mind my employee being on time for her first shift this season.”
My gaze went to my watch, my mouth gaping. “Shit!”
“Supposed to be here five minutes ago.”
“Oh, like you were ever on time,” I snapped back.
“Doesn’t matter, Number Two. I’m the manager now. I can be as late as I want. It’s your job on the line,” he replied hotly, but I knew he was full of it. Gabe was all talk. He would never do anything. He knew he was lucky to still have me this year. But rent, food, and books for school were not cheap, and I needed the extra cash. “Be here in ten.” He hung up.
“Asshole,” I huffed, heading to my car. The wind whipped through my hair, my bones finally absorbing the chill and revolting against it. I reached my old white Volkswagen Rabbit, pulling the keys from my purse.
“Dinah…” My name growled over the gusty wind, swooping up the back of my neck, icing my skin. My breath hitched, my frame swung around, and my keys were ready to stab the predator. The parking lot was empty of people and had only a few cars. A streetlamp glowed eerily, casting a putrid glow. My eyes shifted around, trying to register any movement.
“Di-nah…” This time the voice was so deep it vibrated against my soul, running up my body like fingers, making me gasp. My heart thudded in my chest, my hands shaking.
Earlier it had also been a man’s voice calling me, but this one was different.
Darker. Deadlier.
It promised my demise in two syllables.
Swiftly, I unlocked my car, sliding in and locking the doors. My pulse throbbed in my ears as I checked my back seat, touching the mace I kept in my cupholder. Dad taught Alice and me how to shoot a gun and had put us in a self-defense class when we hit puberty. As a professor at a university, he saw things happen at frat parties and heard things about girls walking across campus at night. He wanted Alice and me prepared to defend ourselves.
As I pulled out of the lot, my nerves still jumping, I thought I saw something in my peripheral, but when I looked again, nothing was there. I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching me.
I hit the gas, tearing down the road, heading for the tree lot. I felt with all Dad prepared us for, he didn’t teach us how to defend ourselves when our own minds turned against us.
Chapter 2