Book Four: Chapter 47

Several other cars were leaving all at once, superimposed over each other in a dizzying blur of headlights and motion. Their taillights smeared into red streaks as they peeled away, each one an obvious, sensible escape route. It would have made the most sense to jump into one of them and go—blend in, disappear, leave the demon behind to snarl at empty air.

It made the most sense, which meant she couldn’t do it.

Beth forced herself to stop watching the cars and refocused, narrowing her attention the way she’d learned to do when everything else felt too loud. The older versions of herself were still there, layered over the present like transparent film. She scanned them until one moment snapped into sharp clarity: a twenty-year-old Beth creeping onto the front porch, shoulders hunched, eyes darting up and down the quiet suburban street. Snowmelt glistened on the pavement, and the air had that