Wasps buzzing. Broken boat motors whining through peaceful waters.Andy …It sounded like—like a they. Like a lot of people saying her name all at the same time, only they were hissing it. Spitting it, somehow, like they hated her more than anything in the universe.Murderer …Andy squinted through the darkness. The water surrounding her felt too thick and dark, like she had chosen to wade through a pool of octopus ink. She tried to see, wanted to get a grip on her own feelings and instincts, but nothing felt clear. Nothing made sense.Show yourself, bitch!Andy whirled in the murk.A knife flashed toward her—Her eyes popped open even as she gripped her bedspread in the brownstone. Her breathing sounded like asthmatic wheezes as her lungs reached for water but found only air. She closed her eyes again and forced herself to relax. It took half her energy to make herself let go of the bedspread, but little by little she was able to breathe easy, then deep. Her buzzing, swimming head calmed, and the peaceful sand and coral tones of her bedroom came back into focus.“I’m just too tired,”
