Amelia POV

My skin crawled long after Ethan’s words stopped echoing through the room.

I lay stiffly on the bed, staring at the ceiling, but all I could see was that man’s face—Maxwell’s face—twisting, reforming, distorting in my mind as every terrible possibility Ethan described replayed itself. The room felt too quiet, too heavy, as if even the air was holding its breath. Ethan thought I was asleep. He’d kissed my forehead, whispered something I didn’t have the strength to ...