Agnes
I was running through the forest, branches whipping past my face. The trees were watching me, their bark peeling away to reveal eyes—hundreds of eyes, all following my every move. I could hear Elise’s voice, carried on the wind.
“The trees remember,” she whispered. “They were there when it happened.”
I tried to call out to her, to ask what she meant, but when I opened my mouth, it wasn’t words that came out—it was fire. It licked up the tree trunks, ignited the brush, engulfed everything around me. The trees’ wooden eyes melted, red sap dripping like bloody tears down their trunks.
Gasping, I turned, only to find that the fire had surrounded me. “You have the gift,” Elise’s voice whispered. “They’ll come for you. Run, Agnes. Agnes!”
“Agnes! The sheets!”
I jerk
