“The one above my bed. It’s getting bigger.”
Behind her, in the real room, Kendra heard her mother’s footsteps in the hallway. “Kendra? It’s 11:30. Why is your light on?” kendra s obsession
Not with a crash or a bang, but with a soft, wet sound—like lips parting. The crack widened into a seam, and the seam into an opening. Beyond it was not the attic insulation or the roof shingles or the cold outside air. Beyond it was a room. Her room. But wrong. “The one above my bed