CHAPTER 12
The dreams start that night.
Not mine.
His.
Jack texts at 3 a.m.
JACK: I keep seeing the fire JACK: but from underneath
I don’t respond fast enough.
JACK: I think something came with me
At school the next day, a girl faints in the hallway. No reason. Just drops.
Jack’s across the room when it happens. His hands curl like he felt it.
Everyone looks at him.
Just for a second.
Just long enough.
The socially dominant guy—the one who runs everything without trying—steps in front of Jack, laughing, redirecting attention. Saving him.
It costs Jack something. I see it in his eyes.
That afternoon, the bathroom mirror fogs over while I’m alone.
A message writes itself.
HE OWES US
I wipe it away with my sleeve.
It comes back.
