Eli's eyes widened. His throat locked.
He could still feel it—the phantom hand choking him, nails digging into his skin, the voice whispering sorry over and over, drilling into him like a curse.
He hadn't seen anything, not clearly. But he had felt it.
Too much.
"I… didn't see anything," Eli rasped, his voice raw.
Kairo's brow furrowed, his black eyes narrowing. "It seemed like you did. When you were under, you weren't still—you were flailing, grabbing at something. Grabbing at me."
His voice stayed level, but the weight in it pressed like stone. "All I heard were voices. Familiar ones. People that shouldn't be here."
"Same." Mio's jaw ticked, his eyes flicking away. "I heard my parents… old friends… voices I thought I'd never hear again. It felt real."
"I heard things too," Eli admitted, his voice shaking. "But I—I also felt…" He trailed off, his chest tightening. He couldn't bring himself to say it.
