Poppy’s POV

“What voice?” Jake asks carefully.

I close my eyes, giving myself a moment before pushing my shoulders back and lifting my chin, the way my mum taught me when I had to face something uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s just there. In my head. At first, I thought it was nothing. Stress, maybe. Or just my imagination. But then it didn’t stop.”

“What does it say?” Leo pushes gently.

“Things,” I say weakly.

“Poppy.” There’s a ...