I hurried toward the exit, waving briefly at the librarian, Mara, as I passed by her. Pushing through the back door, I stepped into the cool, dark night. One of the sconces on the porch was out, making it darker than it should be.
I didn’t notice anything off right away; I was busy taking out my phone to see if I’d gotten any messages. For some reason, I never got good reception inside the library.
I was distracted for a moment—but it was long enough.
A hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed me. My phone went flying.
Before I could react, my body was whipped around and slammed face-first into the rough brick siding of the library. My head cracked against it, pain flaring white-hot behind my eyes and against my mouth. The breath was torn from my lungs as a heavy, solid weight pressed against my back, pinning me in place.
For a split second, I wasn’t in Ember Hollow anymore.
I was back there, when I was nothing more than a kid—barely a teenager.
I could smell him.Feelhim. The same sour tang of sweat. The same crushing weight.
“If you’re going to defend monsters,” a low voice hissed against my ear, hot and close enough to make bile rise in my throat, “we might as well treat you like one.”
My vision tunneled. My cheek scraped against the brick, rough and stinging, but I couldn’t move. I didn’t make a sound—I never did, not back then either.
My heart hammered so violently I thought it might explode.
“You shouldn’t be in this fucking town,” a man snarled, his words vibrating through my spine. “You shouldleave.”
I tried to think. To fight. But my body wouldn’t listen. My limbs were frozen and unresponsive. My lungs seized, ribs tight like steel bands refusing to bend or break.
Then his arm locked around my throat.
Panic detonated inside me. My vision blurred as he squeezed, applying pressure around my neck. I clawed at his arm, trying to suck in air that wouldn’t come. The sound of my pulse drowned out everything else—until the faint creak of a door drilled into my consciousness.
Then, a familiar voice drifted through the night.
“Good night, Mara. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Graham.
My heart stuttered.
In the same breath, the pressure vanished. My attacker shoved away from me and bolted, his hurried and frantic footsteps fading into the night. I stumbled forward with a gasp, one hand fluttering against my throat.
I couldn’t move. One palm was pressed against the brick, nails scraping rough mortar. My chest heaved—each breath a sharp, broken rasp. My throat burned.
“Quinn?”
The sound of my name was like a strike of lightning through the darkness, snapping up all my attention. I looked toward the sound, seeing wide, blue eyes. Graham’s eyes.
That’s right. He was here. We’d been at the library.
I stared at him as he stepped closer, his gaze darting around my face. Something shifted in his expression, like anger sparked beneath the forced calm.
“Quinn, what happened?” His tone was steady, but there was a twinge of rage underneath, so subtle I thought I imagined it.
I shook my head. I was fine. Everything was fine.
I was always fine.
But nothing came from my mouth when I opened it. My mind was still stuck in that place—years ago—somewhere dark and heavy and full of pain I’d promised myself I’d never feel again.
Graham stepped close, a hand raised and reaching for me.
