We huddled around Dean's kitchen island, Kate's phone like a bonfire between us. Scary stories belonged on our tongues, torches under our chins.
"How many chances do we have?" I asked.
"Ten wrong tries and it'll wipe everything," Rhys said, hunching his shoulders over the counter.
"I tried her birthday and birth year, and it locked me out."
Dean gave a shaky nod. We didn't know Kate well enough to make a good guess. It took more than ten tries to strike gold.
I needed to yell. Screaming seemed like the only suitable line of action for the last hour. Nothing else could have captured the dread, shock, numbness, and absolute incredulity of it all.
"I wonder what's next in the book..." Dean remarked, his gaze gradually moving to mine.
Oh no! That wasn't an isolated statement. It
