Chapter 2Melissa’s dreams that night were hot and feverish. After changing into her pajamas when she arrived home, she’d made a cup of tea and settled into her favorite chair in her bedroom to read some of the short story collections she kept there for her nighttime ritual. When all the stories seemed to revolve around strange incidents—from Ambrose Bierce’s tale about Owl Creek or Nathanial Hawthorne’s strange jaunt into the woods—she gave up. She had a shower instead of going right to bed, her hands finding her thighs under the stream of water, and then settling between her legs. She made herself tired in the old-fashioned way under the stream of water, and then languidly fell into bed.
Who cares if it’s been three years? she thought as she rolled under the covers. I have myself to keep
