Mei could still remember it clearly.
The strange thing about memory was how it picked its moments. Not the big ones, not always, not the dramatic turning points or the days when everything changed. Sometimes it reached back and pulled out something small and ordinary, something that hadn't felt important at the time, and held it up to the light like it was the most significant thing that had ever happened.
This was one of those.
Jackson Township. Their house. An afternoon that had felt like every other afternoon.
A couple of days before the nightmare unleashed by the Screamer
She'd been in her room reading, which was the only thing she'd asked of the world on her quieter days, a few hours, a good book, no interruptions. That request had been, as usual, completely ignored by Ryan, who had materialized in her doorway at some point with a book of his own and the energy of someone who had already decided they were staying and was simply waiting for her to accept it.
