“No, no, no. Let me go.”
My eyes fly up from the screen.
Harley?
“What is it, Kaz?”
“It’s—”
“I don’t know anything. I wasn’t involved. Let me go. Please, let me go.”
I frown.
“Kaz?”
I lower my eyes to the screen. “I think Harley is having a nightmare.”
“Oh, shit. She’s been through so much. It must be the stress?—”
“Stop. Please, stop.”
“Is that her again?”
I nod. “Let me call you back. I’m going to go check up on her.”
“Good idea. If you can’t call me back tonight, let’s connect tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
I end the call and rush to the guestroom, open the door and turn on the light.
“Please, stop.” Harley’s little body thrashes on the bed, her head whipping left to right, her long, blonde hair covering her face.
Jesus.
Do you wake someone who’s having a nightmare, or would that exacerbate their trauma?
I’m paralyzed, unsure of what to do.
“I’m not like them. I’m not like them. I’m not like them.”
Who is she talking about?
I approach the bed.
Her arms and legs are fighting with thesheets.
“Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Harley lets out a piercing scream that takes ten years off my life.
She snaps awake with a sharp gasp, sits upright in bed, her eyes wide.
I sit next to her.
She stares at me as if she doesn’t see me.
I grab her face into the palms of my hands and angle her head so her eyes lock onto mine. “It’s okay.”
