Page 78 of Molt

My stomach drops. “What the fuck?”

August stares. His face empties. Then his entire body jerks.

“August?”

His eyes lose focus.

“August!”

I grab him.

He gasps.

When he looks at me again, there’s terror there. Not confusion. Recognition.

“What did you see?”

His breathing comes hard. “A room.”

“What room?”

“I don’t know.”

“What else?”

“You.”

My skin goes cold.

“Me?”

“Strapped to a table.”

“What?”

“Your body was almost...”

He stops.

“Almost what?”

“Finished.”

I feel sick.

“And you were there?”

He nods. “My hands were covered in blood.”

“August...”

“There was someone else.”

The apartment suddenly feels smaller.

“Who?”

“I couldn’t see them.”