Chapter 13 · The Ring on the Other Side

The hand doesn't let go.

It's wrapped around the chain like it's been waiting for this exact moment, and it's pulling Elias toward the crack in the door with a strength that shouldn't be possible. His boots scrape against the threshold. The sound is metal on stone, nails-on-chalkboard awful.

I'm still holding the knife. My palm's bleeding all over the floor.

"Mara." Elias's voice is tight. He's bracing himself against the doorframe, but the chain's digging into his chest and I can see the skin tearing where the links bite in. "Don't—"

The hand yanks harder.

He goes down on one knee.

I move without thinking. I grab the chain above where the hand's gripping it and pull back, but it's like trying to stop a car with a rope. The hand doesn't even twitch. Up close I can see the ring on its fourth finger. Silver band, flat edge, scratched to hell. I used to play with that ring when I was a kid. I'd spin it around her finger while she read to me.

That's my sister's hand.

Except it's not. The skin's too pale, like something that's been underwater too long.