She was in bed. Well, hell, the scariest thing was, she didn’t remember getting there. Again. She wondered if she had some strange sleeping illness. All she knew was, if this kept up, she was going in for a physical. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the last thing she did before the forgetting had begun. She had showered and dressed, pretended not to watch HGTV even though she was now secretly addicted. She didn’t understand what the draw was since she didn’t own a house and probably wouldn’t, but anytime she flipped the channel on, she was transfixed by it. Joelle, she’d seen Joelle. Aislinn knocked on her brow. Think, she told herself. Charon was hurt. The images flooded her mind. Blood, so much blood, and he’d been covered in it. Dying. Joelle had told her he was dying. Frantically, Aislinn leaped from the bed and began running around to find clothes. She had to get to him, find him. “Aislinn, what is it?” His voice stopped her. She turned to find him standing in the bathroom door, watching her.
