12
The bed trembled. Willow shook so hard her legs kicked in tiny jerks. She’d never lain beside a dead person. She didn’t know what she should do. She knew you weren’t supposed to disturb the dead. Would sliding away, if she didn’t hardly move the blankets one inch, be disturbing the dead?
Lying beside Mémé, without a clock in the room and no moon or stars sliding across the windows to prove the passage of time, she felt like she was in a strange world where time didn’t exist at all, where being rescued might never happen. She shut her eyes tight but was afraid to scream. She wanted Tory to hear from down the long hallway and through her closed door, but even the thought of screaming added to Willow’s fear. What if she screamed, scaring herself more, and still Tory didn’t come?
She cri
