I stared across the room at the foot. The back of my neck prickled.
Run, my mind shouted. Run and check on Tom! But my feet rooted to the carpet, my fingers digging into the doorpost.
Onstage, the music stopped. Wild clapping and cheering rose from the arena.
The noise jerked me out of my zombie state. I lowered my purse from my shoulder and set it on the floor. Holding my breath, I crept forward.
As I edged around the side of the desk, Tom’s jeaned leg came into view.
It wasn’t moving.
My legs stopped.
“T-Tom?” My voice cracked into a whisper.
No answer.
So what? He couldn’t have heard me above the crowd.
I took another step. Now I could see his second leg, drawn up and bent at the knee. Tom was lying on his side. I moved again and saw an arm flung out, fingers half curled toward the palm.
I leapt forward until his head came into sight. Tom’s second arm lay crumpled against the carpet, his face partially turned into the short sleeve of his red T-shirt. His one visible eye was open, staring at the wall.
Air gushed out of my mouth. He was tricking me.
“You rotten thing!” I pushed at his leg with my toe. “How —”
No change. Just that wide-eyed stare.
All the relief that had spilled out of me reversed back down my throat. My windpipe closed until I could hardly breathe. I sank to my knees beside his chest.
“Tom?” I leaned down to look into both his eyes.
The other one was gone.
I mean gone. Just a black, bloody, gaping hole.
For the longest second of my life, all I could do was stare. It pulled at me, that hole. Like it wanted me to tumble inside it. A horror-film version of Alice in Wonderland.
Faintness gripped me. I swooned toward Tom’s ravaged face, my nose almost touching where his eye used to be …
At the last possible moment, my muscles jerked me back.
I shoved to my feet and screamed.