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“It’s fine,” Tommy said. Though his eyes still looked dazed, I was pleased to discover his voice was more coherent than earlier. “I’m thirteen.” Before I could respond, he continued, “And Addie’s a pretty name.”

I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. We remained like that for a few moments, each lost in our own thoughts. It was Tommy who broke the silence first, voice pensive and lower lip trembling.

“I really killed her, didn’t I?”

I didn’t think he wanted me to answer, so I instead said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said bitterly. “That wasn’t my mother. No, my mom died the second that worm entered her.”

I was about to comment on his way of handling things, surprisingly bravely, when something he said stuck with me.

“A worm?”

Tommy nodded absently. “Yeah. Just before she...changed, I saw something crawl into her skin. It looked like a little worm. A little black worm.”