“And how is he?”
“Sleeping.”
I nodded. “Okay, thank you.”
“Seph, about what happened today—”
“I don’t want to talk right now, okay?” I cut her off. “I’m tired.”
“Seph—”
“I said I don’t want to talk. Goodnight, Sable.”
Sable frowned. “Goodnight, Seph.”
I slipped past her and shut the door behind me.
Ash was sprawled across my bed, sleeping like the dead.
I grabbed a blanket from the floor and pulled it over him, covering his bare skin. Then I crawled in beside him.
He shifted slightly, even in his sleep, moving closer.
I watched him for a long time. The rise and fall of his chest became a lullaby for my broken soul.
Finally, it lulled me to sleep.
And then I began to dream.
Water surrounded me, slowing my movements. My eyesight was dim, blurred.
The darkness was deep and familiar to me, like I had been here before.
Many times.
I could hear a murmuring of voices, muffled and far away. When the light returned, I could see through what looked like a warped window.
There were people there.
They were angry.
Strange tools lay scattered across benches, things I didn’t understand. Long, black, cylinders.
The men held them tight against their chests.
Weapons. I didn’t know their names, but I knew what they were for.
And my creator, he had something in hand. Something that shimmered.
“Will it be ready?” someone asked.
“I can’t do it without…”
The words faded, like I was going deaf. I couldn’t hear them.
Echo!
Stay away Seph. Don’t come back here.
