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He haunts her dreams.
For the first few nights after Madison washes up on the riverbank, she doesn’t dream. It’s just black – deep and sound. But then he comes, distant and out of focus in the beginning.
They’re surrounded by an ocean of black that slowly brightens, night after night. There’s dirt beneath her feet and four, towering concrete walls around her. She’s back at the dam, in that room, staring into his eyes as blood trickles down hisface.
He’s quiet at first. She wishes he’d stayed quiet.
“Was I too rabid?”
“Was I too dangerous?”
“What was I?”