Gorbon gestured to the basket. “We think it’s only appropriate that the one who necessitated this change be the one to start the return to our ways.” He turned his beady eyes on James.

My heart was stuck in my throat when James turned to me as if he didn’t know who I was. He robotically bent to pull the longest of the knives out of the basket, then moved toward me as if sleep walking. A blinding light opened above the scene, and I was transported to another dream—one I remembered having before.

James and I again swayed to music. This time, we were the only couple on a wooden platform under the stars. The music stopped and James tucked me behind him, turning to face a stranger who materialized on the other side of the dance floor.

“Make it stop, Leath,” James said.

“Make it stop,” my mother called, tapping on my bedroom door.

I opened my eyes, disoriented. My arm flew instinctively to my nightstand, knocking my buzzing cell to the floor. “Sorry, Mom,” I said. Leaning over my bed, I picked up my cell and clicked the ignore button. Collapsing back onto my bed, I counted each breath while willing my heart to slow down.

Sam whined, inching closer to me.

“It’s okay, boy,” I said, stroking his head.

My cell vibrated again. This time, I swiped to answer the call.

“Good morning, love,” Victor said. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

Even with the lingering haze of the nightmare, I knew I had too many rides to school. “Sorry, but Anamae—”

“I get it,” Victor said, not waiting for me to finish. “How about we go to Grinds after exams?”

There would be no avoiding the conversation I had to have with Victor. The sooner it happened, the faster I could begin to rebuild my relationship with him. Okay, maybe it was pointless to be so worried when this time next month, he wouldn’t even remember me, but I just couldn’t bear to leave on bad terms with him.

“That sounds great,” I said.

After Victor clicked off, I worked through the beginnings of a gentle breakup conversation in my mind. In the morning sunlight, my confession to Anamae seemed careless and dangerous. My telling Victor about James was not an option. I might have already jeopardized one of my friends. I wouldn’t bring another one in. But Victor deserved better than the old, “It’s not you, it’s me,” speech.