AT SOME POINT, THE ever-present drumming ceased to be music and turned into the relentless lap of waves against a boat hull. Brushing my teeth, my hand moved in rhythm. Walking back to my bunkbed, it was impossible to speed my steps past the cadence of the deep, steady thrum.
“Lights out in five minutes,” I told all and sundry, my words syncopated like poetry. Adena cawed agreement from her perch on the end of my bed.
“Aw, Dr. Olivia....” Jacob drummed out his complaint against the headboard. His backup pencils whacked the metal out of sync with the distant music. It was all I could do not to force an end to the drumming the same way Sam had done.
“It’s not even dark outside,” Emily said, backing him up. She was right. And that reminded me—
The full moon is coming. No wonder my head ac
