“Because I watched it happen,” Zack said, with a delirious chuckle. “The drawing changed right in front of my eyes.”
Hannah shook her head in turmoil. Amanda nervously tugged her sleeve over her hand. “Look, I don’t think this is the best time to—”
“I’m hearing voices,” David blurted. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I didn’t mean to cut you off. I just had to get that out. Since this morning, I’ve been sporadically hearing people that I can’t see. People talking to each other, laughing, whatever. I only hope it’s related to this phenomenon you’re discussing, because otherwise I’ve lost my mind.”
“You’re not crazy,” Hannah assured him. “At least not more than the rest of us.”
Zack studied Mia’s dark and busy expression. “Got your own weirdness to share?”
She looked up at him. “Me?”
“Yeah. You’re a quiet one, but I noticed you got even quieter when we started talking about this. Is it something you can tell us?”
For a man who’d just been slapped, Zack was awfully perceptive. Mia had been thinking about her own incident—the glowing tube with the candles and the note, a special delivery that somehow managed to find her eight feet underground. She didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding insane.
“Not really.”
Zack eyed her skeptically. “You sure?”
“Leave her alone,” Amanda growled. “She’s been through enough.”
“We’ve all been through enough. But we’re all old enough and smart enough to speak for ourselves.”
Mia nodded at Amanda. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. We’re still traumatized. Still grieving over the people we lost. The last thing we need right now is to fill our heads with supernatural nonsense.”
Zack peered down at Amanda’s crucifix and swallowed his next slap-worthy zinger. “Look, I’m just trying to make sense of this.”
“And I’m telling you it’s too soon to try.”
“Too soon for you.”
“Too soon for all of us!”
Zack chuckled darkly. “Really? How interesting that you already know me better than I know myself. Is this a new psychic power or just an old trick you learned at Judgment Camp?”
As Amanda stood up, Hannah took a reflexive step back. Over the course of her life, she’d seen every dark facet of her older sister. Shoutmanda, Nagmanda, Reprimanda. Hannah knew, as both a summoner and a witness, that few things were less desirable than a visit from Madmanda.
“You unbelievable piece of shit. Are you such a sociopath that you need to mock people just hours after they’ve lost everything? Is that how you were raised?”
Now it was Zack’s turn to step back. His wide eyes froze on Amanda’s hand. “Uh . . .”
“I don’t judge! I don’t preach! I don’t condemn the people who don’t share my faith!”
Hannah leaned forward, blanching at the bewildering new change in her sister. “Amanda . . .”
“What I do condemn are people who disrespect my beliefs, especially when I’ve done nothing to provoke you but wear a tiny little symbol!”
“Amanda!”
She spun toward Hannah. “What?”
“Your hand!”
The widow peered down at her fingers and got a fresh new look at her weirdness.
The blight had returned in full force, coating her right arm in a sleek and shiny whiteness. Though the substance looked like plastic, it fit her as snugly as nylon.
David and Mia jumped up from their chairs. Hannah covered her gaping mouth.
“What the hell is that?!”
Bug-eyed, gasping, Amanda dropped to the recliner. The glistening sheath felt cool on her skin, like milk fresh out of the fridge. She could feel every bump and fold of the armrest as if she were still bare-handed.
“I don’t know. I don’t—”
The sisters both screamed as Amanda’s long white glove erupted in rocky protrusions. Her silver bracelet creaked in strain, then snapped into pieces.
By the time the jagged fragments fell to the floor, Amanda’s arm looked like it was covered in rock candy. The crags rose and fell in erratic rhythms, an ever-shifting terrain.
David looked to the door. “Uh, maybe I should get one of the—”
“No!” Zack and Amanda yelled in synch. “Just watch the hall,” Zack said. “If someone comes by, keep them out.”
Amanda flinched at Mia’s approach. “No, stay back! I don’t want to hurt you.”
Zack inched toward her, fingers extended. “Look, you just need to calm down.”
“Calm down?”
Mia nodded tensely. “He’s right. This whole thing started when he got you angry.” She moved behind Amanda’s chair and stroked her shoulders. “You’re going to be okay. Just breathe, Amanda. Breathe.”
Hannah cringed with guilt as she watched Mia soothe her sister. I should be doing that. Why didn’t I think to do that?
David peeked through a crack in the door. “Someone’s coming.”
A four-inch spike erupted from the back of Amanda’s hand. Her other arm erupted in a rash of tiny white dots. Zack jumped back.
“Jesus. All right. It’s definitely stress related. If you just relax—”