Caleb
Time seemed to work differently on either side of the glass. On her side, every second was vital. Seconds rolled into minutes … and minutes rolled into hours. But on our side, time slowed right down. It was as if the glass acted as a semipermeable membrane, sucking in more time from our side through to hers. She could have all of it if it meant she got to live.
“She’s a fighter. She’s going to be fine, I just know it,” I replied, willing that to be true.
Jen placed one palm flat against the glass and held out her other hand to me. “Take my hand and pray with me.”
I always scoffed at human religions. Maybe because werewolves weren’t mentioned anywhere in the Bible. I didn’t know if God existed or not, but there and then at my lowest point, I decided that anything was worth a shot.
