dogs. A fist thuds against the door. ‘You all right in there, Jen? Kelly said you looked terrified.’ ‘Fine thanks, Rach,’ I call, but I’m not fine at all. My legs are shaking so hard I sink down onto the lid of the toilet and drop my head into my hands. What’s happening to me? Since seeing Fiona, the medium, on Saturday these ephemeral feelings that swamp me, snatching my breath and accelerating my pulse, are becoming darker. More frequent. There’s an almost constant unease gnawing at the pit of my stomach. I can’t stop thinking about this second energy, and I’ve never believed in stuff like
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