Beverly nodded, all too knowingly. “Oh, I know.”

My vision blurred at the edges.

I was going to pass out. Right here, right now. In the middle of my place of employment. And Beverly was going to win.

Greg clapped his hands. “Alright, you two…get started.”

I exhaled slowly, my pulse pounding in my ears.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Greg’s words bounced around inside my skull, repeating over and over like a cruel joke.

You’re training her.

You’re training her.

You’re training her.

You’re training her.

You’re training her.

The world tilted.

For a split second, I wondered if I was imagining it.

Maybe it was just a stress response.

Maybe my body was finally rejecting the relentless torment that was Beverly Price. Maybe this was my mind’s last-ditch effort to save me from complete psychological collapse.

Beverly tilted her head, that devastatingly smug smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and I swear to God, it was the last thing I saw before everything went sideways.

I vaguely heard Riley say, “Shit,” right before I hit the floor.

The stress had finally killed me.

* * *

I came to on the sticky, questionably cleaned floor of the cinema lobby, my head buzzing like an TV stuck between channels. Voices echoed above me—muffled, disjointed, like they were coming from underwater. A faint ringing buzzed in my ears, and my limbs felt disconnected from my body, like I was floating just outside myself.

He’s burning up!

Did he sleep enough?

I don’t know.

Did he eat today?

God, I don’t know! He always acts like exhaustion and hunger and pain don’t apply to him if he just wills them away hard enough.

Someone tapped my cheek, not gently. “Blake. Blake. Blake.” The voice was suspiciously close to my ear. “Blake, if you’re alive, say something. If you’re dead, also say something.”

I let out a groan that was barely human, wincing slightly as I tried to process the fact that I was still alive and not mercifully released from this hell.

I managed to pry my eyes open, and the very first thing I saw was Beverly’s face. Which meant I was, in fact, in hell.

She was leaning over me, her face blotchy, her eyes wet, her chest rising and falling too fast. Her blonde ponytail swung as she tilted her head, blue eyes scanning my face like she was deeply considering poking me again.

I groaned. “Don’t.”

Greg crouched down beside me, his hands resting on his knees. “You alright, McHayes?”

I turned my head very slowly. “I’m training her?”

Greg nodded. “You sure are.”

I shut my eyes. “Knock me out again.”

“Asshole,” Beverly choked out. There was a sniff before I felt her breath against my neck, sharp and uneven, as her fingers trembled against my skin. “You scared me,” she whispered.