My blood turned to ice.
The lumpy linoleum floor beneath my bare feet felt like it was tilting, threatening to drop me into the same icy water Silas said he had pulled me from all those years ago.
The hallway outside Lena’s apartment suddenly felt impossibly smaller through the peephole, the dim yellow lighting casting long shadows across the peeling walls.
Through the distorted glass of the tiny peephole, that man’s face remained terrifying.
The sharp angle of his jaw. The heavy brow. The cold, vacant look in his eyes. It was all identical to the phantom that had haunted the edges of my suppressed nightmares since I was six years old.
He was the man from the wreckage.He looked older than the man i remembered in my dream but the resemblance was still there.
"Vienne."
Silas’s voice
