Chapter 25 · Untitled Chapter

"Mark." Amy's voice came out flat. Wrong. Like she was reading from a cue card.

Mark looked up from his coffee. She stood beside the fridge, staring at the empty space between them.

Then the crack opened.

Black split the kitchen from floor to ceiling, thin as a knife wound. The fridge vanished behind it. No smoke. No sound. Just a line of nothing peeling wider.

"Amy, move!"

A pale hand shot through.

The skin looked dead, freezer-white. Tarnished silver rings covered every finger, thick enough to crack bone. A crown had been burned into the wrist.

The hand clamped around Amy's forearm and yanked.

"Mark!"

She hit the table. The coffee pot shattered, and hot coffee ran across the floor with the glass. Amy's knees buckled. The hand kept dragging her toward the crack.

Mark lunged and caught her wrist.

"Let her go!"

Something on the other side pulled harder.

Amy's shoulder struck the edge of the crack. Her body went rigid between them, stretched tight as a rope.

"Pull me back!" she gasped.

"I'm trying!"

A second hand came through. It seized her hair and twisted.

Amy screamed.