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Heather lay crying in the dark, her head resting on Higgs’s still chest, desperately hoping to feel some movement beneath her ear to tell her he was still alive. That she wasn’t too late. Not again.
His skin against her cheek was cold, and getting colder, the pores seeming to harden as she lay there until they felt like stone once more, like the statue that had thrown this nightmare at her was now fading into unliving form.
‘Higgs?’ she whispered, her voice very small in the encroaching dark.
Nothing. There was no longer any movement, and as she sat back and watched, she could see his skin hardening into stone.
‘Higgs!’ She shook his shoulder, but he was impossibly heavy now, and no effort of hers could make the slightest movement.
He was gone. He was lost once again.
‘No.’ Heath
