Chapter NineWHEN WHITNEY AWOKE in the middle of the night, she was too afraid to open her eyes. There was a sense of impending doom all around her. And, more tangibly, the feeling that someone else was in the room.
Bruce was beside her, sure, but he wasn’t the “someone” she sensed. She could feel his body heat emanating from the other side of the bed. She could hear his gentle breath as he slept.
The “someone” wasn’t Bruce. The “someone” stood at the foot of her bed. Watching.
Like a child, Whitney pulled the covers up over her head. She would hide from this terror. She would hide until it went away.
Or perhaps she wouldn’t. Perhaps the “someone” in the room wouldn’t allow that. Because, tight as she clutched those covers, she could feel them being tugged from the base of the be
