BOOK TWO: WHAT GIFTS SHE CARRIED
A muddy pinwheel spun into a watery grave, vanishing through the drain, a swirling, bitter reminder of my escape from death. But like it did with everyone, death would eventually catch up with me.
Just not anytime soon, I hoped.
I closed my eyes under the cascade of heat and shuddered, but I couldn't get away from the mud. It splattered down on top of me, crushing me, burying me alive. I snapped my eyes open and sucked in water instead of air.
Jo pounded on the bathroom door. "Leigh?"
"Fine," I said between chokes and sputters. "I'm fine."
A few deep breaths later, I still wasn't fine. Every blink flashed a different horror. Sorceressi. Jo possessed. Hands punching through graves. Mom coming back. Ica reaching down into the grave for me. Clawing
