I wanted to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t open my eyes. Just as I was about to call for help, I heard my best friend’s voice: “You drugged her just to meet me—what a pain.” Then my husband said, “She won’t be around much longer.”
Saturday. 2:13 a.m.
The first thing I tasted was metal. Like I’d licked an old coin.
Nora’s heels tapped twice on the hallway floor. I know those shoes. Every time she gets nervous she digs the heel into the floor, then stops for half a second. Then she headed for the front door.
Not a dream.
Dreams don’t make your own heartbeat that loud. They don’t make your tongue heavy, like a wet towel. There was a spot on the inside of my left arm. Cold first, then hot. The heat crawled up my skin and stopped at my elbow.
