“Amira ran through the streets, breathing hard and legs burning. The faster she ran, the closer he seemed to get. The red stone was clenched in her hand, glowing. It gave her away whenever she tried to lose him in an alley or doorway, a beacon he could see no matter where he was.“Run, Amira!” Scott was ahead of her, fighting off Zyra and one of the men with her, the way he had the night he died.It’s just a dream. Amira repeated this to herself once more, but she couldn’t help the fear or escape ...the clutches of the nightmare to wake up.She ran around a corner and found herself in a cornfield, newly harvested. She stopped, lost. The moon was directly overhead, gently illuminating the rolling hills of the farm where she stood. No on else was with her, and she saw no roads, houses or fencing that might help orient her. Cornstalks were outlined with ice from the first frost, and the ground beneath her was hard.Her breath floated upwards. She watched it and shivered in the still, chilly air.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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