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All the best for me to spill my guts into, right? Given the amount of blood present in my dreams, it seems fitting.

Am I ready for this? Hell, no. But at this point, I don’t give a shit. It’s time to air the past, reset it, see what the fuck I got myself into when I was too little to know any better.

So yeah… Let’s do this.

“Once upon a time,” I say, “in the small town of Destiny, there lived a little boy called Mercury Tyson Watson.”

“Tyson?” Cos snickers. “That’s your middle name?”

“What’s wrong with Tyson?”

“Nothing. It’s cute.”

“May I then continue?”

She waves a hand at me, still snickering.

“Do you have to tell it like a fairytale?” Gigi mutters. “It was real.”

“This is my story. I tell it any way I like.”

“After the night you put us through, you could at least be serious about this,” she grumbles.

“Guys, please,” Octavia says, ever the peacemaker. “Can we talk about the dreams now, Merc? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

I rub at my temple. “Mercury Tyson went out one night and came back with a bunch of nightmares for his nightly viewing pleasure. He returned covered in mud—or rather, Gigi found him.” I turn to her. “Where did you find me?”

She leans forward in her chair, lacing her hands together on her knees, eyes wide. “Nearby the Kirbys’ Farm.”

“That’s not far from Little Stream and the Pagoda,” Octavia says.

“What pagoda?” Cos glances between my sisters, then looks back at me.

“A small pagoda on a private property by the stream. It comes up in my dreams,” I explain.

“The body,” she whispers.

“Yeah, the body.” I fight the shiver that racks me. “The body, the stream, the temple, the swan.”

“Sounds like a Tarot reading,” Jarett mutters.

“It’s a dream, what did you expect? A map and instructions?” Yeah, I’m cranky, no matter how I fight it. So damn tired.

“A map for what, though? Are we…” Cos licks her lips. “Are we talking murder? Did you witness a murder?”

Fuck, fuck. My chest aches. It’s like a band tightening around my middle, cutting off my air supply. I hit my chest with my fist. Come on.

“Hey, Merc.” That’s Matt. He sounds annoyed, or maybe worried? “What’s wrong?”

This is ridiculous. Yeah, what is wrong with me?

“Hey…” Cos rubs her small hand over my heart, dark eyes lifted to mine. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Yeah, fuck, okay. I look at her, and force air into my lungs. Let it out. “Just remembering stuff, is all,” I manage, my voice like rust and nails.

“Tell us.”

“There was a silver swan. A stream, a temple, a swan, a body. Footsteps. I can’t…” My head hurts like a bitch, like nails raking the inside of my skull. “Fuck…”

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