And fury.
When she speaks, her voice is a jagged whisper, slicing through the room: “You.”
A hiss.
A warning.
Pure, unadulterated hate.
“You.”
Chapter
Forty
Noah
A thin ray of light glows beneath the door.
“You.”
The shriek is sharp, warped—nothing like Alicia.
Cold shoots through my veins. She’s not alone. Alicia’s not alone.
Every muscle goes tight.
My fingers curl in.
My vision tunnels.
The hallway narrows to the one door.
I twist the knob.
Locked.
“Alicia?”
I lean back.
Jam my shoulder.
Once.
The door quakes.
Lean back.
Kick.
Bam.
The wood splinters.
The door swings.
Slams against the wall.