Caleb shows up only a few minutes later, which means he'd actually been close by. And he was: he'd come to barge his way in, because she's been ignoring his texts and the last time someone he cared about behaved differently via text, it was Michael, getting carved open, and he'd helped Alex Manes track him down and—
No. This is about a different Alex. This is about Alex Stern, and Caleb finds himself hesitating at the door.
Whatever she's feeling, it's a lot. It's a thick, heavy mist, gray and off-white and black and cold. It's like marble, he realizes, like a black and white marble counter-top — cold, unyielding, impossible to see through. His hand is sweaty when he grips the handle and pushes his way in.
"A-Alex?" he whispers. It feels like he has to whisper. He doesn't know if it's actually dark in here, or if it's just that counter-top blocking out the light.
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No. This is about a different Alex. This is about Alex Stern, and Caleb finds himself hesitating at the door.
Whatever she's feeling, it's a lot. It's a thick, heavy mist, gray and off-white and black and cold. It's like marble, he realizes, like a black and white marble counter-top — cold, unyielding, impossible to see through. His hand is sweaty when he grips the handle and pushes his way in.
"A-Alex?" he whispers. It feels like he has to whisper. He doesn't know if it's actually dark in here, or if it's just that counter-top blocking out the light.