Page 114 of Molt

His back arches. Something beneath his shirt twists. A sickening crack. Then another. His ribs.

“Oh my God.” I grab him before I remember touching makes everything worse.

I don’t care.

“August!”

His scream turns strangled. One side of his chest caves inward. Not broken.

Emptying.

Bones disappearing one after another beneath skin.

At the same time, pressure tears through my torso.

I scream with him. Something hard grows beneath my ribs. Too many bones.

His.

Fitting themselves around my organs.

My body stretches from inside. I feel every curve. Every new attachment. Every piece settling into wet tissue where it does not belong.

I vomit onto the floor.

August curls beside me. “Don’t touch me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sarah...”

“Don’t you fucking dare die.”

I grab his face.

He laughs weakly.

“Very romantic.”

“Shut up.”

“Bossy in every lifetime.”

“I’m not her.”

His smile disappears. “No.” He touches my cheek.

Four fingers. “You’re not.”

Something warm splits along my spine. I scream as skin opens down my back.

August catches me as I pitch forward. “What?”

“Something’s happening.”

“Don’t peel.”

“I’m not!”