Taylor Adams

And I’ll never be Person B again.

For as long as I live.

And the witching hour was approaching. That time of evil, of demonic entities, of crawling things that live in the dark. Just superstition, but Darby shivered anyway as she typed another draft text.

Hey, Mom. If you find this message on my phone . . .

She hesitated.

I want you to know that I didn’t stop fighting. I didn’t give up. I’m not a victim. I chose to get involved. I’m sorry, but I had to. Please know that I always loved you, Mom, and no matter what, I’ll always be your little girl. And I died tonight fighting to save someone else’s.

Love, Darby.

“No.” Jay shook her head. “They’re here on purpose.”