Jacob was constantly scrutinizing me with his inquisitive gaze. He poked my stomach repeatedly as if determining I was real or not.
"Jacob, stop it," I said. This was breaking my concentration, and driving needs a lot of concentration.
"Last night you looked completely fine but now... you look kind of beat up. Did something happen last night?" asked Jacob.
Last night's memories flashed through my eyes. I gave him a brief look before continuing to drive. There was no way I could tell him the truth about me beating a bunch of people. Kids don't need to know that.
I replied, "I fell down the stairs last night."
"Really?" Jacob's tone was sceptical.
"Yeah. My body lacks vitamin A, which is very essential for preventing Nyctalopia."
"N-ny-ct... 'Nyctophiliaa?' What is that?"
