A tear slipped down her cheek. The music had cut off. All was quiet in the club. She hadn’t heard it so hushed in a long time. It reminded her of a cemetery. The cold of the grave washed over her skin. A gray haze descended over the world. Tig’s grip on her arm wavered, and then she couldn’t feel his fingers on her anymore. She dropped to her knees and slid a few feet toward Barrett and reached out to him. Her fingers passed through his arm and then she was able to grab it. It was cold and firm. Please. Please don’t die. Please don’t become like me. The paramedics rushed in and placed him on a stretcher. She sat with her back against the bar and watched them take him away. Why did you have to come back here? Amelia ran her fingers through her hair and prayed Barrett would live. “You care for him.” She looked up and saw a woman with blonde braided hair, in a flowing white dress. She appeared to be an angel or what Amelia imagined an angel would look like because she had never seen one.