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But . . . it’s the smile on her face that’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.
It’sthesmile.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She pats my cheek, but I can’t feel her fingertips. I can’t feel anything, save for the heavy weight on my chest like a steel anvil, resting right on top of my ribcage.
“Look at me, look at me, look at me . . .” she whispers, so fast I can barely make out the words. I suck air into my lungs, but none comes.
Panic seizes my chest and tears leak out of the corners of my eyes, but still . . . I can’t move.
“Look at me, look at me, look at me.”
Why can’t I wake Mason?
This must be another nightmare.
I will myself to wake up, fighting with my subconscious for control of my own body. All the while, that wretched smile stays in place.
His smile.
“Hannah.”
I scream, all the air rushing back into my body at once and leap from the bed, tangling myself in sheets and blankets before crashing to the floor against the bedroom door.
She’s going to kill him.
Mason.
“Hannah,” Mason says, jumping from the bed and falling to his knees in front of me. “What the fuck happened?”
He brushes the hair out of my face, too gentle for the nightmares still clinging to the edges of my mind with steel, icy cold grips.
“There’s someone in here,” I gasp, hand over my chest because I’m still raggedly out of breath. I scan the room around us, even as he takes my face in his hands and attempts to force my gaze to his.
“Baby, there’s no one here. It’s just us.”
He thinks I’m crazy.
“She was,” I cry, shoving back from him and falling forward to search under the bed.
Nothing.
Not even a sock.
“Hannah.”
I clamber to my feet, searching the closet, the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink, the shower . . . anywhere I can think that someone my size could hide.
“Hannah.” Mason’s voice is like a whip cracking when I reach for the door handle to check the rest of the house.
Tap tap, fucking tap.
It makes sense now.
The tapping on the other side of my dark prison.
It was Missy. She was the monster in the darkness.
