Page 77 of Sweet Nightmare

There has been one too many creepy things going on since this storm showed up, and I can’t take the damn suspense for one second longer.

Eva must feel the same way, because she’s already grabbing the roll and walking backward with it so the tapestry unfurls.

And that’s when I freak out. Because in just the last couple of minutes, the tapestry has changed again.

Gone is the ominous beach scene, and in its place is one giant, dripping, bloodred word.

BEWARE.

CHAPTER FORTY

LIKE A MOM

BOSS

“What the hell?” Eva says, her voice rising with each word she speaks. “How is that possible?”

“I told you it changed,” I say, but it’s not like I’m any calmer.

“Yeah, but I thought you were confused or something. You’ve had kind of a rough day. But this—” She stares down at the tapestry. “This is really creepy.”

“Really creepy,” Luis echoes.

They’re not wrong. I know what I saw earlier, and I know the scene was different, but there was a part of me that thought there had to be an explanation. But this… There’s no explanation for this. At least, no explanation that doesn’t freak me the fuck out. Especially when I think about all the ghosts that keep telling me to run.

What is happening on this island? And what does it have to do with me?

“Do you think that’s about the storm?” Eva asks, her voice still a full octave above normal.

“I don’t know, but I’m not about to wait around and find out.” Luis starts rolling the tapestry back up as fast as he can. “The way this day has been going, that could be a warning about anything from the apocalypse to a giant T-Rex bursting out of the woods over there. And I know how these things go. The gay best friend always dies first in horror movies.”

“Not always,” Eva tells him. “Sometimes it’s the spunky sidekick.”

Luis shoots her a dirty look. “Yeah, well, I’m the spunky sidekick, too. And I say we get the fuck away from here, fast.”

“No argument from me,” I tell him.

“Me, either,” Eva agrees. “But are you sure we want to bring that thing with us?”

“I want to know what else it’s going to say. Don’t you?” I have to shout to be heard over the wind, which has picked up significantly in the last couple of minutes.

“Umm, definitely,” Luis says as he finishes rolling up the tapestry and swings it over his shoulder. “Now let’s get out of here, shall we?”

We take off running back toward the dorms. The rain is coming down so fast and hard that the ground is waterlogged, making every step a misery as we slog through mud and wet, loose sand.

It’s slow going, made worse by the giant gusts of wind that keep hitting us head-on. More than once, Luis almost loses his grip on the tapestry. Somehow, we keep going, though, and finally make it back to the sidewalk that leads from the academic buildings to the dorms.

That’s when we start booking it—or try to. But our muddy shoes slip and slide on the slick path. As a particularly terrifying bolt of lightning splits the sky, I start to wonder if we’ll ever make it back.

Finally, finally, we get through the fence and make a beeline for the main dorm. We’re almost there when a flash of pink catches my eye, and I stop dead in my tracks. I attempt to wipe the rain from my eyes and trace the streak of pink roaming through the downpour.

It’s her again—the pregnant woman in the rose nightdress, pacing in front of the dorm.

Her hair is unbound now, and the wind has blown it so that it’s covering her face. But there’s something about the way she walks and carries herself—even in the middle of this storm—that seems familiar to me.

Even stranger, I know she’s a ghost, but she looks lifelike. Yes, she’s a translucent, milky gray. But unlike other ghosts, her hair is a deep, dark brown, and the flowers on her nightgown are a bright, vivid magenta.

I don’t know why she looks so different than the other spirits or why she acts so peculiar. Instead of interacting with the others—or trying to interact with me—she just wanders back and forth. She doesn’t even appear to notice I exist, while I can’t help but notice her.

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