Arliss awakened to dull pewter light filtering in through the windows. He had slept poorly the night before, his sleep invaded by nightmares that involved things like rope, cages, and clutching hands. He was grateful he could remember little else. He turned in sheets still damp from his sweat and spied Josh leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching him.
Arliss sat up in bed, noticing how the sky outside mirrored the deadness he felt within. There were no formations of clouds broken up by blue. The sky was a dreary expanse of sickly grayish-white. He rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”
“A little after six. We need to get you ready for the shoot.” Josh stayed where he was, not nearing the bed or even changing the position of his arms. There was something about him that
