Free The Day Before Forever by Anna Caltabiano

talking about “we” instead of what I had done and what I had said.
    â€œMaybe something could have come—”
    â€œWe can’t just wait. We don’t have time.”
    Henley was silent.
    Time was always the one thing we never seemed to have enough of. It was ironic, considering I had an infinite amount of time.
    â€œLet’s not think of that now,” I said, turning from the windowsill. “We have to figure out how to get him the money.”
    Henley shook his head. “One step ahead of you there. My grandmother.”
    â€œYour grandmother? You mean the one you created out of the blue and killed just so we had an excuse to have time to ourselves? That was awful, even for this messed-up situation. You know, Alanna told me she recently lost her own grandmother—”
    â€œWe could say that my grandmother—God rest her soul—left me a great amount of things when she passed, including her treasured Tudor jewelry passed down for generations. How simple is that? No need for problematic paperwork on how the jewelry was bought or acquired if it was passed down in a family long enough.”
    â€œNice and simple . . .”
    â€œNo holes,” he said. “We get the man his money. We get IDs—”
    â€œAnd passports,” I said.
    â€œAnd passports,” Henley repeated. “And we’re out. And then?”
    â€œNew York.”

FOUR
    THE WOMAN STOOD in front of me in a haze of white. I couldn’t see where she was—I could only concentrate on her. She was dressed in white, with only the faintest rose color in her cheeks. She was pure . She was good . She looked like some sort of immovable Roman statue. She had marble eyes and frozen lips. Her hair fell gently down her back.
    I reached out—I didn’t know if it was to comfort her or to somehow unfreeze her—but try as I did, I could never reach her.
    The woman smiled, suddenly unfrozen, and both our gazes traveled down. A red flower bloomed from her body. As its bright petals unfurled, the red seemed to engulf her.
    I looked back at her face, and all at once she looked terrified. How could I have mistaken that grimace for a smile? She was horrified at what was happening to her. She was in pain. She started to scream.
    I tried to reach her, but I couldn’t move. I tried to cry out,but there was only silence. All I could do was watch her die.
    I woke up, blinking into the dark. My breath was coming in ragged bursts from crying in my sleep. Everything’s okay. Just breathe.
    I sat up slowly. The room was ink black, and though my eyes strained against the darkness, I couldn’t see a thing.
    I felt Henley next to me. The side of his body pressed into me, and he felt warm.
    Moving to swing my legs off the side, I suddenly brushed over something cold with my hand. I recoiled. What exactly is that? It felt smooth and chilled. Something on Henley’s side.
    I frowned. My hands fumbled to get the light switch. I thought it was above the bedside table. When the lights flickered on, I choked.
    Henley was on the bed, lying straight on his back. His hands were clasped together and wrapped around them . . . the plastic beads we had gotten on the streets yesterday.
    So that was what had felt cold to the touch.
    He looked like a corpse.
    â€œRebecca . . . What time is it?” Henley’s eyes fluttered open.
    He looked from me to his hands. The color drained from his face.
    â€œYou didn’t do this, did you?” his voice wavered.
    I shook my head, unable to speak.
    He sat up with the beads still around his hands. “If you didn’t do this . . .”
    â€œSomeone was here.”
    I immediately dove for the backpack under the bed. I pulledit out and unzipped it, emptying its contents. The clock was there. Thank goodness. Richard’s vial was there. And the cash too. Nothing important was missing.
    â€œIt’s all here,” I said.
    I looked to the bedside