I was jogging with Leib and April, I was lagging behind them to give them space to flirt with each other. I giggled at the thought—them flirting—nothing would be more awkward than two awkward people doing that.

I was watching them talk when my visions were suddenly obscured. I felt—I knew—the existence of the black canvas bag that was put on my head, their fibers tightly weaved that no light peeked as I struggled to get free from the hands that held me immobile. I foresaw what ...