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By the end of the school day, Laney’s head was ringing. Her eye sockets were pulsing, her vision peppered with strobe lights, and she seriously considered using her last eight bucks to take a taxi so she didn’t have to walk. But she was too antsy to get back to the house to wait for one.

She was grateful they only lived a few blocks from the school as she hustled home and dragged herself up the stairs and into the house.

“Hello?” she called.

She sensed movement, and Dustin appeared around the upstairs corner with a finger pressed to his mouth.

He’s sleeping!

Dustin disappeared back down the hall and she recognized the soft click of his bedroom door. She stumbled into the kitchen, fumbling for the Ibuprofen and swallowing it dry.

She was, without a doubt, concussed. Not the first time. You know the drill.

She needed to sleep. And unable to think clearly, she followed the thread tugging at her from behind her navel, finding herself on the other side of Cary’s bedroom door.