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Tiny black hands grab the quilt next to my head, hauling themselves up. A bloodied stump emerges, a headless raccoon that crawls onto my chest flexes its fingers.

Begins to dig into my shoulder.

My own blood sprays across my face, but I can’t scream, can’t move. From the corner of my eye I see it pull on a tendon, stretching until it breaks, tosses it aside to reach for a muscle.

From the hallway, a series of noises, something coming closer, clunky, dragging. Arch lowers his head, the door visible now, framed by his wings.

The knob turns.

The door cracks.

Red light filters in.

It opens, creaking.

I wake up, sweat-soaked, the cry that couldn’t get out in my dream finally erupting from my throat, a choking noise that reaches no one. I drag in a breath, then another, my hand going to my shoulder, which is on fire but whole.

I open my mouth to call for my mom, like a child afraid of the dark. But I left my mother and came to Widow. My gut lurches, and I try to get out of bed, but my legs won’t support me. I go to all fours. I’m making my way down the hall when I realize that the sound is oddly familiar, an echo from my dream.

It wasn’t something walking up the stairs of the Zedeker house.

It was something crawling.

Thirty-Five

Micah

At 5:00 p.m. today, I’ll find out if the one person in my life who actually knows me wants to keep it that way. That’s a lot to put on one meeting, but Ava Germaine is the only friend I’ve got left—even if she doesn’t know it yet. I manage to make it through sixth period before Ethan confronts me, shoving me into the corner between the locker room and the pop machine as we change classes.

“What the fuck, man, you just dumped Murph in the parking lot?”

I shove his hands off my chest, ignoring the glances from everyone passing us. “Yeah, I just got medical attention for our friend after dropping you off at your place crying, hoping you could sneak inside before your mommy caught you.”

“Guess you wouldn’t understand that, huh?” Ethan says, eyes narrowing. “Only thing your mom catches is a wine bottle, and I bet she fumbles it.”

My face hardens, the muscles in my jaw twitching. Ethan leans in, face only inches from mine.

“Just like she fumbled your dad’s dick.”

Punching him isn’t a decision I make; it just happens.

My knuckles catch him right on the chin, the power-down button on a human. It’s an uppercut thrown from the hip, and Ethan’s feet leave the floor, his eyelids already flickering in midair. He’s unconscious before he lands, body sprawled in a puddle, surrounded by shrieking underclassmen.

I’m hauled to the office and face-to-face with the principal in no time flat. I’m a little shaky when Mr. Mattix sits down across from me.

“Well,” Mattix says, leaning back in his chair. “I watched the tape.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my eyes down.

“Then I watched it again,” Mattix adds.

I lift my gaze to his, catching a twitch at the edge of his mouth. I’m absolutely positive Mattix enjoyed watching me punch Ethan Brimley’s lights out, but that’s the closest he’s going to get to saying it.

“He’s conscious, by the way,” Mattix says. “Says he won’t press charges and would like to keep it between the two of you.”

I know he won’t press charges, because as soon as he fucks with me, I can direct the authorities to a pole barn with two starving dogs inside, even though my name is on their adoption papers. The truth is that we’re both in shit up to our necks, but it’s coming out of our own asses while we point at each other, both of us trying to prove who’s the bigger piece of shit.

“You know I can’t do that, though,” Mattix goes on. “Leave it between the two of you, I mean. You assaulted a student on school property, and you’re getting three days out-of-school suspension, effective immediately.”