Every muscle in her borrowed body cramped up. She was in one of the dreams she’d harvested last night, the baker’s!

“Ngh—” she tried, reaching toward the woman. Help me!

The woman shook her head, spraying desiccated petals like poison darts around them. “I trusted you, Hrithik. You stole my recipe. All that money, all that fame—that should have been mine!”

“Ngh, ngh!” Tanvi pleaded. I’m not who you think I am!

“I could never stop thinking of you. Never move on. You hijacked my world, and you didn’t even care.” Teeth bared, the woman advanced on her. The rotted flowers gave a sickening crunch and burst, spewing bloodred beetles with silver razor blades for wings. “And now I’m going to make you hurt the way you hurt me.”

She launched the bouquet at Tanvi.

Tanvi struggled and bucked, and right as the first set of wings sliced into her shoulder, the dream tossed her out.

Panting, her mouth even drier than the bouquet had been, she fell back into her sweaty pillow. Her body quivered with adrenaline, and if her heart hadn’t been silenced, it would be thrashing hard enough to break her ribs.

That couldn’t have just happened. Tanvi focused on the lantern hanging from the dim ceiling. It couldn’t have. Dream runners didn’t dream. Everybody knew that.

Her body was overheating. She was going to short-circuit.

A whimper escaped her, and she jammed her face in the pillow. But how?

Dream residue. Of course. Harvesting dreams meant experiencing them, and the residue took a while to wear off. Maybe this time, some of it had gotten stuck to her.

Yes. Tanvi exhaled hard, the tension easing from her muscles. She’d never had residue last so long before, but anything was possible.

She breathed long and slow, waiting out the residue’s effects, and slowly her surroundings came into view. Tangled, limp sheets and a pillow punched flat underneath her. Bare walls all around her. Across from her, a cabinet. She knew that cabinet—it was where she stored her dreamstones. The table where she sat to eat her meals and admire the bracelet she’d soon have.

And the door, as red as a ruby dreamstone.

Someone knocked on the other side.

Her breath caught. Was she late for harvesting? Apologies already leaping to her tongue, Tanvi raced to answer.

The door swung wide at her touch, and the girl from Philadelphia beamed at Tanvi. “I was just looking for you!”

Tanvi stumbled backward, but she couldn’t escape that too-broad grin.

The girl shoved a folder full of loose pages at her. “Don’t forget to study for the quiz, Nitya! Mr. Collins won’t like it.”

“Go away!” Tanvi shouted before slamming the door in the girl’s face. Somehow the folder still landed at her bare feet, scattering paper everywhere.