ready?” Mr. Forkle asked, striding closer.
The sisters reached for each other, tangling their fingers together as they nodded.
Mr. Forkle clapped his hands. “Excellent. Then let’s begin. Keep in mind that the memory will take a moment to register in your consciousness after I return it. And once it does, it will feel detached—as if you’re watching something happening to someone else. Try not to think too much during that initial confusion, as it will only slow your mind from making its own connections—and once those connections form, the sensations will take over. I’d recommend locking your jaw so you don’t bite your tongues when the pain hits. That part should pass within a few minutes. If it doesn’t, I have sedatives—”
“No sedatives,” Sophie interrupted.
“Yes, Miss Foster, I figured you’d say that. But I still wanted both of you to know that the option is available. And Flori is right outside if you feel the echoes stirring.”
“Echoes?” Amy asked.
“Loooooooooooong story,” Sophie told her.
“And now is not the time,” Mr. Forkle noted. “Right now, I need you each to focus on taking slow, deep breaths, dragging each one out longer than the last.”
Their breathing quickly fell in sync, and there was something so soothing about the steady rhythm of matched inhales and exhales.
“It’s also important to note that some of your memories will feel very abstract,” Mr. Forkle added quietly, “given the mental state you were in when they happened. And you’ll still have gaps that you’ll need me to fill in, since quite a lot occurred after I rendered you both unconscious. And while I’ll do my best to answer your questions, please bear in mind that there are certain things I won’t be able to explain—not because I’m holding anything back, but because there are parts that even I don’t fully understand. In fact, I’m hoping the two of you might be able to provide some additional insights. We’ll see soon enough. For now, keep breathing. Sloooooooow and steeeeeeaaaaady.”
They’d each taken ten more breaths when he urged them to close their eyes and hold the next one. And when Sophie did as he asked, she felt his shaky fingers press against her temple.
“Here we go,” he whispered. “Three… two… one.”
The last word came with a rush of cold, like someone had poured a glass of ice water into her brain, and Sophie clamped her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering.
The chills numbed her thoughts, leaving her head quieter than it had ever been before, and she soaked up the silence, loving every second—right up until the noise took over.
It felt like someone clicked on a movie projector at full speed and full volume. And the images were too jumpy to make any sense.
But each new breath brought more focus, until Sophie could recognize two little girls—one blond and one brunette—surrounded by murky green.
They started out talking. But talking shifted to teasing. And teasing turned to taunting as the voices grew louder and louder.
Angrier and angrier.
Sophie couldn’t make out any of the individual words.
But she could feel them cutting deeper and deeper.
Sinking into sensitive places.
Raw places.
Dangerous places.
Poking and prodding and pulsing.
Exposing powerful new nerves that sent tingles rocketing through her.
Her hands burned—fingertips humming with a strange, itchy energy.
And her head…
There was So. Much. Pressure.
Too much.
It boiled and bubbled inside her skull, growing darker and darker and darker—and Sophie gasped as her consciousness dropped fully into the moment, the sensations completely taking over.
Her stomach twisted.
Limbs thrashed.
Brain churning churning churning with emotions so intense, it felt like they were tearing and scratching and shredding—and maybe they were, because something deep inside her mind seemed to unravel, leaving… an opening.
A new pathway.
And the darkness surged forward.
Turning hotter.
Wilder.
She felt herself cry out at the same moment she did in the memory as her fury shifted from black to red and poured out of her mind.
Aimed at a single target.
Sophie, please—stop!
Amy’s screams clawed through Sophie’s ears, and she couldn’t tell if they were from memory or reality. The lines between both had blurred, and she was caught up in the frenzy.
Beyond her body.
Beyond the world.
Nothing but pure, unbridled force.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
“Sophie!”
The new voice demanded attention—familiar in some ways, and unexpected in others. And with that thought, Sophie felt her mind divide.
Part of her clung to the girl she is.
The rest stayed trapped with the girl she used to be.
And each “Sophie” was frightened and fearless and furious.
But Present-Sophie felt clearer. She could recognize the desperation in Mr. Forkle’s voice as he called her name over and