The peacefulness I’d been enjoying didn’t last long. Within minutes, I felt my mind begin to wander again. I was growing more bored and restless, and my body still ached, which wasn’t helping. It was hard to relax when each bump, each jostle, sent a wave of pain through me.

  I let my eyes flutter shut and dropped my head back against the headrest, wishing that I could drift off and fall asleep for a little while. Ideally, I’d sleep for the entire length of the journey, waking only when we were pulling onto the driveway, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen.

  We were too far from home. It would be hours until we got back, eight or maybe nine. My body wouldn’t let me sleep for that amount of time. I could maybe get an hour or two, if I was lucky, but I doubted I’d stay asleep any longer than that. Even if I somehow did manage it, I was certain my mom would just wake me up.

  It was unhealthy to take naps during the day, according to her. She’d told me that many times, seemingly ignoring the fact that I often came home from school to find her asleep on the sofa. I was never really sure whether she was napping or passed out when that happened. The empty bottles of wine that usually surrounded her hinted that it might be the latter, though. But, of course, that didn’t count. It was fine when she did it, but not when I did.

  Still, there was something else keeping me awake. A fear lingered at the back of my mind, making it impossible for me to drift off. I was too aware that when I was asleep, I had less control. I couldn’t choose which world I went to; I just found myself in one of them, and that terrified me. There were too many, too many horrible places hovering at the edge of my awareness, just waiting for my guard to drop. Then, they’d strike.

  A shudder tore through me as dizziness blurred my vision. One of the worlds that I was so scared of seemed to be rising up, threatening to drag me away into their depths, and I thrashed against it, trying desperately to loosen its grip on me. I could feel it. The thorns were in my brain. It had hooked me, was reeling me in, and I had to fight. I had to get away.

  It couldn’t happen again. I couldn’t be taken to another world where I was forced to hold my best friend as she died. Even just the thought of watching Phoebe die again sent a fresh wave of agony through my heart. It seemed to burn across my chest before reaching my shoulder and spreading down my arm until my fingertips stung.

  I lifted a hand to rub the centre of the pain, unable to hold back the wince that flitted across my face as my fingers touched the tender skin below. Concern shot through me, and my eyes darted towards my mom before I glanced down at my body.

  Luckily, I was wearing a jumper. It had felt like a stupid decision when I pulled it on that morning. The weather was too hot for it. We were still in the middle of summer, and I didn’t need another layer, but I was suddenly glad I’d worn it rather than shoving it into my already full backpack.

  Would there be a bruise? The thought pulled at me, and I tried to dismiss it, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. I was shot in the other world. I didn’t really recall it happening, but I was pretty sure it had. My attention had been on Phoebe. All of my focus was fixed on her, but I remembered an impact and the pain that followed. Something had slammed into my shoulder, and that kind of felt like a gunshot. It was similar to how it had felt when I’d been shot in the other world.

  When that happened, a giant bruise had formed on my stomach in my reality. It was still there. The colour was starting to fade, the edge turning an ugly shade of yellow, but it was still visible, and that was what scared me. If it had happened again, if there was a bruise appearing on my chest, I’d have to be careful. For the rest of the summer, including my date with Duncan, I’d have to wear clothing with high necklines.

  None of my dresses would do. They were all too low cut, and if I had a mark, I didn’t want anyone to see it. Especially if it was as dark as the one on my stomach. It would worry them, and they’d want to know what happened to cause it. How was I meant to answer that?

  The urge to pull my jumper aside and peer down at the skin below rose within me, making my hands twitch. I wanted to check whether the bruise was already starting to form, but Mom would notice the movement. She’d see me looking down my shirt, and she’d demand to know what I was doing. I’d need to wait until the next time we stopped to check.

  Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as I shuffled in my seat, unable to stop my mind from racing. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad that time. I’d left the world quickly, after all. And I hadn’t gone back, so perhaps that would make a difference. I was barely connected to that world. It was new to me; I’d only ever gone there once, and that had to matter, right?

  I wasn’t sure, though. I still had no clue how the whole thing worked or even what I was doing. It was a mystery to me, and I was just figuring everything out as it happened. The thought gave me some hope, though, and I refused to think about it too hard because I knew that would cause it to die out.

  A silent sign of frustration and worry slipped from my lips, and I tried to focus on the world outside my window again. The road signs were still in Scottish, I noticed. We must have still been in Scotland, and I shouldn’t have been surprised. We hadn’t been travelling for too long.

  That realisation sent a wave of anxiety through me. The journey had already been so difficult for me, and yet I had so long left of it. What was I meant to do? I couldn’t just sit there and wait for it to be over. I needed something, something to occupy my mind so the boredom didn’t creep in again, bringing the other worlds with it.

  I started to reach for my phone again. Texting Duncan or Phoebe would help. I’d only just really finished texting Phoebe, and she would be getting ready for brunch, but that was fine. I could still message her and say I was bored. She’d respond when she could, and Duncan…

  The thought of texting him made my anxiety dance within me. It was worse than normal. I wasn’t generally scared of talking to him, but our date was so soon, and I was worried about saying the wrong thing and annoying him somehow. It could make him change his mind, and that would be fine. He’d still be one of my best friends, and I wasn’t entirely convinced the date was anything other than platonic, but I didn’t want to risk it just in case.

  Social media. That was the solution. I could just scroll through my feed, venturing onto the explore page when I got bored of it. There were so many options, and something had to captivate me. Or maybe I could use one of the language apps I’d downloaded, I realised. They were fun, and I had a streak to maintain.

  My hand had almost reached my phone when I saw my mom’s head turn sharply. It was a small movement. She wasn’t fully looking in my direction, but I knew her eyes were on my phone. She was just waiting for me to pick it up, the judgment gathering on the tip of her tongue and preparing to strike.

  Was it worth it, though? My mind seemed to linger on the question for too long, unable to decide. Anything would be better than the suffocating boredom and restlessness, but I could feel my mother’s anger brewing. It would only get worse, as it always did during the journey home from her parent’s house, and I didn’t want to be the target for her rage. I would be at some point. There were few other people for her to take her disappointment and loneliness out on, but I wanted to hide away from it for as long as possible.

  My fingers found my leg instead, and I scratched it, pretending as if I simply had an itch, before letting my hands drop onto my lap. My mom continued to watch me out of the corner of her eye for a moment longer before her attention returned to the road, sending a weak flare of triumph through me. It was silly. All I’d done was not annoy her, but I was briefly proud of myself.

  The feeling faded quickly and left nothing in its wake, though. Too soon, I found myself staring at a smudge on the windshield, trying to ignore the pull of the other worlds. I could still feel them. Even as I tried to ignore them, I could feel them trying to draw me in, but I batted them away. I had to resist, but I couldn’t just do nothing. I wasn’t capable of that, not anymore. I was too weak, and the urge to do something else, be somewhere else, was too overpowering. I couldn’t fight it.

  It was inevitable, I realised. No matter what I did or how hard I struggled, I would still get sucked in. It was already happening. My vision was starting to blur around the edges. The world was beginning to fade, and the colours were draining out of it. They had too strong a grip on me. The other worlds were drawing me in.

  I had to remain in control, I told myself, trying to pull myself together. As long as I did that, I could choose where I went. I’d find a world where Phoebe wouldn’t die, and it would be fine.

  A sensation immediately began to creep towards me, one that made my stomach tighten, as if I were on a roller coaster. The car around me started to spin. It was dizzying and sickening, and I jolted, catching myself before I could be sucked in.

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  No. That wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t just settle on a world where Phoebe survived. She could still be hurt, still feel pain, and I needed to do better than that. It was too dangerous. As long as she was in the world, she could die or get injured, and that meant I needed to find somewhere else. I had to find a place where Phoebe wasn’t, where she didn’t exist, and the only person who could get hurt was me.

  That wasn’t ideal either, obviously. Ideally, I didn’t want to feel pain either, but it was better. If I had to choose between Phoebe being hurt or me, the answer was easy. I’d pick myself every time. It wasn’t even something I needed to deliberate. Pain wasn’t too bad for me, but the thought of Phoebe going through it, of being forced to watch over and over without being able to do anything to make things better for her, would break me. I couldn’t handle it.

  A dark, shadowy dizziness pounced, turning my vision black. I could still feel the car swirling around me, but I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see anything. Desperation flared within me, making me want to thrash against the world that was drawing me in, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Phoebe didn’t exist in that world. Somehow, I knew that, and that was enough for me.

  It still scared me, though. The other place, the world, terrified me, but they all did. I didn’t feel safe in any of them anymore, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat as it pulled me closer. It didn’t matter if it was scary, though. That was fine. Ideally, it wouldn’t be, but it was only temporary. Once my friends were out of the induction wing, I’d go back to the Academy.

  That thought reassured me. I liked that world. It wasn’t too scary, and I felt safe there. I was just so lonely. It was crushing, but it wouldn’t last forever. As soon as I had my friends with me again, it would be fine. I wouldn’t need to worry about the other terrifying worlds that haunted the dark corners of my mind. I’d never have to think about them again.

  But would that last? How long would it be before the world stopped being enough for me? I could get bored of it somehow, or maybe something could stop me from being able to go back there. If something happened, if one of my friends got hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to face it again. I’d run away from the world, just like I had with Mitch’s world, and then what? Where would I go? How many worlds would I flee?

  Irritation flared within me, and I shoved the thought aside. It wouldn’t happen, I decided. Not again. I hadn’t been expecting it last time. I didn’t think I’d get so attached to someone I didn’t know, and I was so scared. I’d never been shot at, never been threatened like that, and I wasn’t sure how to react, but things had changed. I’d changed, and I was more experienced. There was nothing that could happen at the Academy that would make me run away.

  But my determination drained from me too quickly, leaving behind nothing but a nagging sense of anxiety and fear. Confusion washed over me. I had no clue why I felt like that. It seemed to rise up out of nowhere, and it felt wrong. I hadn’t been anxious moments before, but suddenly, I could feel the nerves gripping my throat and making it hard to breathe.

  It was the new world, I realised. That was the source of my worries. I started to pull away instinctively, but I was too slow. The world was already solidifying around me, and I could hear something. A voice. It was my own voice.

  I couldn’t help but be drawn in, wanting to hear what I was saying. It was too tempting, too interesting, and before I could do anything about it, the world was taking shape around me. The air had a chill to it, despite the fact I was inside. Barely, though. I was standing in the glass entrance of a building. A shop, maybe?

  “—only a few more minutes,” I heard myself say, vaguely aware that my mouth was moving, but it didn’t feel like my own body. Not yet. It was too detached still.

  “I’m sorry, Greta—”

  “Grace,” I corrected.

  “I’m sorry, Grace,” the man continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “But the library was meant to close ten minutes ago. Did you not hear the announcements?”

  It was a library! That made sense. It did feel like one, and the scent of paper lingered in the air. There was another smell beneath that, though. Something sharp and strangely medical.

  “No,” I said earnestly, shaking my head. “I had my headphones on. I was hurrying to finish my essay before—”

  “There were three.”

  I was fully aware of that. I’d heard them before in that world. They sounded every single evening as sundown approached. It wasn’t too bad in the summer, but that had passed. The sun was starting to set earlier and earlier, and I’d forgotten how annoying I found it every single year. I hated having to be home before six, and it was only going to get worse. The next few months would be horrible. I’d spend so much time in my home, and I didn’t want to.

  There was no other option, though. It wasn’t safe, and I was being careful. I was trying to be, at least. I’d set so many alarms to try and make sure I finished working before it was too late, but I just kept snoozing them because I wanted to get my assignment done before I had to go back to my dorm. I didn’t work as well there, and the essay was due in the morning. I only had another three hundred words left, and I thought I could do it, but I hadn’t realised how dark it was getting.

  The sun was already setting. The sky was streaked with pinks and reds, and my eyes lingered on it for far too long. It was a bad omen. Everyone knew that. Blood in the sky meant blood would be shed. That was a given. Blood was shed every night, but I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want it to be mine.

  “I know, and I’m so sorry. I just—” I started to say, desperation clawing at me as I looked back at the unmoved librarian.

  “My shift finishes in ten minutes. I still need to finish locking up, and you need to leave.”

  “Can I wait inside?” I asked. “Just until you’re finished? I’ve booked an Uber, but the driver isn’t here yet.”

  I glanced down at my phone, trying to appear as though I was checking where the driver was, but the screen was blank. I hadn’t booked one. Not yet. I managed to get as far as opening the app before the man interrupted me and started to kick me out.

  “No. It’s against policy.”

  A howl came from outside, the noise reaching in through the flimsy glass doors, and I felt my heart rate spike. It was too close. The sound came from far too close, and that was wrong. They couldn’t be nearby. I had no real clue where I was or who ‘they’ were; I was too new to the world for that, but I was certain they couldn’t set foot on campus.

  Someone had said that at some point. I had a vague recollection of that. A professor had mentioned it, maybe? During the open day or one of the introductory lectures? Or perhaps it was in the prospectus when I was applying for university. That sounded right?

  A distant flare of excitement shot through me at the realisation that I was at university. I must have been older, and that was cool. I didn’t expect it, and I didn’t feel older. Was that something I’d notice? I wasn’t sure if I ever had before, but then again, I never really considered it.

  The university was one of the safest in the country, I recalled, the memory coming out of nowhere. Everyone knew that. It had one of the lowest rates of attack in the entire country, and I wasn’t sure I’d even be accepted. I thought I was going to have to spend the next three years living at home and studying online, or perhaps I’d be sent away to one of the convents that had begun to pop up again. They were generally safer too, obviously. But, to my surprise, I’d been chosen. Someone had decided that I was worthy of a place at one of the only universities my parents had begrudgingly allowed me to apply for, and I was so glad.

  Still, I had to keep my guard up. No one was ever truly safe.

  “Please,” I begged. “My flat is on the other side of campus. Just let me stay a few more minutes. My ride will be here so soon!”

  “I can’t,” the librarian said flatly. “Wish I could help out, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  That was a lie. I knew it was. He didn’t seem to care at all.

  “Please! Hannah let someone stay overnight a few weeks ago!” I cried. “I won’t tell anyone!”

  The man’s eyebrows rose, and he regarded me with absolutely no emotion. He was utterly unmoved by my fear, and that scared me almost as much as whatever waited outside.

  “I’m not Hannah,” he replied. “You need to leave. The sun hasn’t set fully just yet. If you run, you should get back in time.”

  He wasn’t going to let me stay, I realised as my heart thudded in my ears. He wouldn’t even let me wait inside to call someone. Not that I could, anyway. I barely had any money left in my account, and I was pretty sure there wasn’t even enough in there for a ride back to my place. It would take five minutes, if that, but the taxi drivers always bumped the prices way up after dark.

  If there were even any around, that was. They might have all retreated back into the safety of their homes, unwilling to risk going out at night. There was no one else I could call. My parents were too far away. They wouldn’t be able to get to me in time, and the library was too close to the edge of campus. Even if I had someone to call, I couldn’t wait outside until they picked me up. It wasn’t safe.

  The librarian was right. I had to run. I was wasting time, taking too long to argue with him, and the sun was steadily dipping lower in the sky. The more time I spent trying to convince the man to help, the lower my chances of getting home.

  I swallowed nervously and swung my bag onto my back before stepping towards the glass doors. My eyes flicked towards the sky before scanning the small quad outside the front of the library. There was nothing there, no movement or trace of whatever had howled. I needed to go before that changed.

  “Good luck out there,” the librarian said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as his hand closed around the card dangling from his belt. “Don’t stop for anyone, and you might just make it home.”

  I didn’t reply. There was nothing I had to say to him, and even if there was, I was pretty sure the words wouldn’t come out. My heart was racing, my chest felt tight, and my palms were already sweating despite the cold air coming in through the gap between the doors that were still closed.

  When night was approaching, the only way to get in or out of any of the university buildings was with a swipe card. It was a precaution, apparently, but I wasn’t sure how that worked. I glanced back at the man, watching as he reached towards the card reader.

  He was too tall, or the card reader was too low on the wall, and he had to lean to tap his card against it. The movement caused his collar to shift, and my eyes flicked towards his exposed neck as the light caught it.

  My heart stopped as I stared at the small hint of a scar that had yet to heal. He was with them.