Memories are a fickle thing, especially when all you remember are a few hushed words swept away by careening chaos and the fading of your consciousness.When I next opened my eyes, I was in a room I didn’t know, in a world I realized with crushing certainty I didn’t belong in, that couldn’t be real.But there’s one thing I do remember: I was running from something, and that something, that monster, was strikingly real, despite Spencer’s reassurances of my safety. Every day is a battle, but how long can someone fight themselves?
