PREVIEW

... /p>

Because she didn't dare.

The halls of the hospital creaked. Not with footsteps. But breathing. Like the walls themselves were alive. Like something was holding its breath... waiting.

She sat on the floor, her back against the door of her room, a scalpel clenched in one shaking hand.

Not for defense.

For proof.

If she blinked and it vanished—she'd know it was starting.

The Pulse.

That cursed thing.

Whispers threaded through th ...

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