Page 34 of Presence

But if that’s true, the last thing I need is for Camilla to find out. I can’t pull her into this mess. I need to keep her safe. I might be dangerous for her. What if I hurt her, thinking she’s just a shadow? If what I think actually happened, then I must’ve acted crazy.

So, I put on my best actress mask and force a smile, even though it feels like it’s burning my face.

“God,” I sigh. “I feel so stupid. I’m sorry it seemed that way. An elevator guy came over to use the bathroom and startled me. You know I don’t have visitors often, and I freaked out.”

There was something about an elevator guy, right?

Camilla eyes me for a moment, her expression caught between doubt and relief. Her tense shoulders start to relax, though the worry lines on her face don’t completely disappear.

“An elevator guy?” she repeats. “Didn’t they fix the elevator yesterday? You said there was a power outage and your phone died. Why would they be here again?”

I gulp, trying to keep my smile from faltering.

Whoa, okay. So the elevator guy was here, but it was yesterday? This just proves that what I dreamt actually happened, but now I know it didn’t all happen in the same order. My memories must be all mixed up. I can’t figure out what really happened and when...!

And a power outage? Is that why my blinds malfunctioned, leaving me alone in the dark? Was there a logical reason for it? So, the flickering light and the elevator guy were on different days, not today like the phone call with Camilla?

How long was I asleep? Was I even really asleep?

Shit, shit, shit. Clare, think!

“Right,” I say, dragging out the word to buy myself time to come up with an excuse. “They needed to do a check-up and all.”

Cam pauses, eyeing me to see if she buys my story. Somehow, she seems to.

“I see,” she says.

I nod, relieved she’s accepting my flimsy excuse, though guilt gnaws at me for not telling her the whole truth. “I know, I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll be more careful,” I promise, hoping to ease her mind.

She picks up her purse, still glancing around the apartment as if searching for any sign of the chaos I’d described over the phone. She doesn’t find any. But as her eyes wander around my flat, so do mine, and I don’t like what I see.

There, at the shoe rack, are my black Converse. At the tip of them, where my toes should be, there’s a dry, blood-red stain from jam. It triggers something in me, and the memory of running in the store from creepy people with even creepier faces washes over me. That happened in reality as well.

I’m so fucked.

“Well, I sure hope so,” Camilla says, making me look at her instead. “But now I need to come up with an excuse for ditching Jackson. Again.” She bats her eyelashes. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him I ghosted him because my best friend is cuckoo. I’ll figure something out. If he’s still interested after all this, he’s either a serial killer or it’s meant to be. Those are my only two options.”

I laugh, a short, strained sound, but it seems to satisfy her. Talking about her and Jackson feels like a conversation for another day. Another life, maybe.

I… I need to get back to Echo. I need him to protect me. I can’t survive another nightmare. More importantly, I can’t risk the shadows slipping out of me into the real world, messing with my mind, making me do things I’m not aware of. This is insane. Not to mention, terrifying.

But I can’t just wait to fall asleep. What assurance do I have that the same thing won’t happen again? I might be sleeping in my mind, but my body might be moving regardless. I need to make sure my body can’t move. Tying myself up? No, that could go wrong in so many ways...

Fuck! What do I do?

As I watch Cam turn to leave, it hits me. There’s one option that would ensure I stay motionless in my sleep. It would also knock me out stronger than anything else.

I can’t be seriously thinking about this...

But I am. Meds. I need to medicate. I need to break my unbreakable rule and knock myself out. Only then do I have confidence that I won’t lose it and hurt people. Or myself.

“Hey, Cam,” I begin, biting my lip as she turns to look at me with those piercing eyes of hers. I trail behind her, feeling the weight of the lies I’m about to tell. But it’s for the best, I remind myself. “Remember how we were talking about sleeping pills?”

“Yeah?” Her lips purse and her eyebrows knit together. She’s suspicious. “What about it?”

“I think I might actually take you up on that offer,” I say, trying to sound casual while masking the urgency inside me. I’m desperate, really desperate, but I’m doing my best not to show it. If there was ever a good time to showcase my acting skills, it’s now.

Cam’s mouth opens as if she’s about to say something, then she just closes it, spins around in the hallway to face me directly, and puts her hands on her hips. She gives me a look like she didn’t hear me right, but I know she did.

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