Now, in Bridgetown, they were bolder. Behind a market stall piled high with dead, glassy-eyed chickens, she saw Cherry Jane, staring at her with a somber look on her face. Walking on a bridge over Constitution River, she saw Micah and Mercy holding hands as they stepped off the side and were swallowed up by the waters below. And there were the nightmares. More feelings than visions—like the feeling of being eaten from the inside out, or of hands wrapping around her throat to choke back her screams.
