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Zoey glanced at the screen and look undecided.

“Yes, do,” Cora coaxed. “Watch a movie with us. You and I haven’t spent nearly enough time together since you moved here.”

That seemed to be the clincher for Zoey. She joined us on the couch, sitting next to Cora.

It took me about five seconds to realize Cora had picked a horror movie. She knew I hated them. But I didn’t say a thing about her choice. Maybe she just wanted a reason to cuddle into me and clutch my arms, because she spent the next two hours smashed against me doing just that.

When the final credits rolled, she groaned and flopped her cheek onto my shoulder. “I don’t want to walk all the way back to my bed.”

I offered to carry her, which she gladly accepted. As I glanced at a pale, shaken-looking Zoey and told her good night, Cora wrapped her arms around my neck and cuddled her nose into my throat.

“Will you stay the night?” she whispered in my ear.

“Of course.” I knew she didn’t want to do anything and I wouldn’t have tried after seeing her so sick, but her sudden, strange clinginess scared me. I wasn’t too sure what to think about what was going on with her.

But she continued to cling to me when I crawled under the sheets with her and spooned up behind her. “I like it best when you’re here.” Her hand settled possessively on my forearm before she sighed into her pillow and went to sleep.

I stayed up long after she was out, trying to figure out what most of this evening had meant. Cora had wanted me to take her to a party tonight, but she hadn’t even mentioned how much she’d missed not going after I’d found her sick. She usually hated missing a party for any reason; she liked to bemoan the fact that she’d missed it until she found her way to another event.

Tonight, she just hadn’t acted like herself at all. I kissed her hair and hoped to God she was okay.

When I finally fell asleep, nightmares plagued me. Reason number one why I never watched horror movies. They never failed to make me dream about my mom.

I jerked awake sometime late in the night in a cold sweat. Cora was sleeping peacefully. I touched her forehead for a temperature, but she felt cool, so I shoved the blankets off me and patted barefoot out of her room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. A night-light above the sink guided my path as I went to the refrigerator and found a bottle of chilled water. When I noticed the notebook I’d started to open while I’d been popping popcorn still sitting on the kitchen table in the corner, I opened the water and went that way.

A lighthearted children’s story sounded like the perfect cure to get me over a scary-movie-induced nightmare.

I gasped myself awake, my haunting dreams chasing me into consciousness. The movie Cora had picked out had been about a girl who’d tried to leave her abusive spouse, but ended up being chased down by him.

So, of course I had to dream that my father had chased me down and caught me here. Arms prickling with goose bumps, I sat up in bed, breathing hard. It was the dead of night and I felt like I needed to check the front door, just to make sure it was still locked. After finding my glasses on my nightstand, I crawled off the mattress and tiptoed down the hall.

But I still felt jittery after finding everything bolted properly in place, so I stopped by the kitchen and got a water from the refrigerator. I was unscrewing the cap when a voice from the table said, “Hi.”

I yelped and whirled around, dropping the bottle and spilling water all over the floor.

“Sorry.” Quinn popped up from the table and dashed to the paper towels sitting on the counter. “I thought I’d scare you more if I didn’t say anything before you saw me.”

I retrieved the bottle, grateful not much had spilled. As Quinn wiped the floor clean, I cradled the water to my chest because I realized I once again wasn’t wearing a bra under my nightshirt...in Quinn’s presence.

“Can’t sleep either?” I asked, not sure what to say, or if I should say anything. Maybe I could just slip back to my room and leave him here alone.

He shook his head and sent me a look after he tossed the used paper towels into the trash. “I hate those stupid scary movies.”

A smile burst across my face. “I do too. I have no idea why Cora loves them so much.”

“And that she doesn’t like quality shows like Psych,” Quinn added, smiling back.

“Clearly, she has issues.” Unable to stay away, I wandered to the table to see what he’d been reading. When I realized it was the notebook I’d given him, I sat, wondering which one it was. I’d been too nervous earlier; I’d just picked out the first one my fingers had touched and shoved it his way without seeing the title I was handing away.

Tucking my feet up on the seat with me, I rested my chin on my knees and read a few words. Ahh. This one was about the dragon slayer who ended up making friends with the dragon. Very How to Train Your Dragon like. I know, I was so original. Except they weren’t Vikings in my story, the main character was a girl, and the main dragon was not named Toothless.

Glancing up at Quinn, I sighe

d. “I kept dreaming about someone breaking into the apartment, so I had to make sure it was locked. But now that I’m up, I know I won’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.”

He sat back in the chair he’d been in when I’d come into the kitchen, and he lifted his water in a silent kind of cheers. “Same here.”

I clinked my bottle gently against his. He smiled, and we drank together in silence.

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