“Damn. Why did that look so terrifying?” Jane muttered, rubbing the back of her neck like she could scrub away the chill.

“Check on her. Now, Malcolm… let’s go,” I urged, already pushing off the wall.

But before we could move, Jane’s fingers closed around my wrist. “Wait. Look.”

Through the screen, Jennifer lay perfectly still in bed, breathing deep and even, one arm tucked beneath her cheek like a child. As if the violet veins, the snarling, the shattered door had all been a nightmare.

“This makes no sense,” Malcolm growled, dragging a hand down his face.

I sank back into the nearest chair, the metal cold even through...