He blinked and Casey disappeared. He glanced over. In her spot, a little girl sat,
a spitting image of a young Casey. She smiled. Everything about her was Casey,
except for her eyes. The girl had brown eyes.
“May?” William tried to say. Was that the child Casey was talking about, he
wondered.
He blinked again and Casey was beside him, crying. Covered in his blood.
“Remember!” Casey shouted.
Then everything went black.
William woke up gasping for air. As his lungs filled, he fell out of the chair he’d
been sitting in. He couldn’t remember how or why he was sitting in a chair.
He couldn’t remember the last thing that happened to him.