Killman Creek (Stillhouse Lake, #2)

by Rachel Caine

“You and me, then. Together.” “Always,”

I could sketch every inch of her from memory. The shape of her hand is burned on mine in tactile perfection.

I know she’s not a superhero. She’s human, like me.

But the past never leaves us. It’s in every breath, every cell, every second. I know that now.

Nightmares aren’t frightening once you wake up. Memories are.