“Hey,” a woman said. “What’s wrong?”
I just sat there, head in my lap, the same as when she walked up to me.
“My name is Olivia,” she began. “I’m here if you need to talk to me.”
I stayed silent. I needed time to process what had just happened.
“Did you lose someone?” she whispered in my ear.
I remained silent, even though I wanted to just look at her and let her comfort me with her sweet, tender voice.
“Are you Adam Callcott?”
I jumped as she finished saying my name. As I backed away, I turned my eyes to look at her. But she was covered in the blanket of night.
“Don’t worry, Adam,” she said comfortingly, as if she had gone through what I had to deal with. “I lost a lover, too. I know how it feels. I lost mine the day after you lost yours. And to the same problem, too.”
How does she know that she died? I thought to myself. She leaned forward to hug me, to make sure that I was alright, to make sure that I wasn’t dead.
Some time passed before another thought entered my head that burst into speech.
“How do you know that she was murdered by that thing?”
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