“Have you seen my friend?” I asked through gritted teeth.
The man stepped out of his hiding place. It didn’t occur to me to ask why he was there, or why he was hidden. I was too preoccupied with my messed-up body, and the weird fog edging into my mind.
Sweat trickled down his brow. “A friend?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I haven’t,” he answered roughly.
My thoughts became muddied. I sank into the floor with a groan. The weird, fuzzy, tight sensation taking over my body was becoming unbearable. I was starting to freak out. I wanted to go home.
The man approached me slowly, but carefully, almost like he was afraid of something. “What’s your name?”
“Sage.” I was too distracted to ask his in return.
He stopped a foot away from me with wide pupils and sweat trickling down his brow. “Sage, I’m—”
