Distress rises and settles in my throat, and it becomes hard to breathe. Breaking free from the crowd, I grab the railing of the stairs. It’s not the exit, but at least there’s more room here. My limbs are sluggish as I drag myself to the second floor, stepping over a girl sprawled on the carpeted staircase.

I stagger to the bathroom, drawn by the light peeking out from the crack beneath the door. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m pushing it open all the way, and there’s a girl inside, washing her hands.

Zoe.

She turns at the sound of me entering, lips curving into a wolfish grin. When she shakes her hands out, blood drips from her fingertips, staining her skin red.

Horrified, I take a step backward, exhaling sharply.

“Alina.”

The voice comes from right behind me, causing me to flinch. I turn around to find Mason, a pensive expression on his face as he grabs my arm. The familiar dissonance between his eyes brings me a sense of comfort, but the fear within them sets me on edge.

“We need to get out of here.”

I let him guide me back down the stairs, stumbling along behind him and trying not to trip over my own feet. Zoe’s presence looms over my shoulder, and when I look back, the red is creeping steadily up her arms, darkening the sleeves of her white blouse.

We reach the living room again, and it’s as though the number of bodies in the house has multiplied. Mason’s grip on me is broken, and I lose him in the throngs of people.

“Allie,” Zoe calls out in a singsong voice. She reaches up to flip her hair, leaving a streak of crimson on her shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” I choke out, elbowing my way to the door.

The living room is lit up in a bright flash of white, and the air fills with screams as everyone dives out of the way. My feet are rooted to the floor, and I can only look on in terror as a car bursts through the outer wall of the house, coming straight for me. I hold my arms up to shield my head, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Instead, I wake up in my bedroom. I bolt upright, skull pounding, and squint in the early morning sunlight. I glance at the clock; it’s a little after six. Too early to be awake, but there’s no chance in hell I’m falling back asleep now.

The mattress beneath me is grounding, and my fingers curl around my comforter tightly. I’ve seen similar scenes in my brain before, but this one felt like it lasted forever.

And in the past, I didn’t recognize the faces.