That night, Lucas lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He replayed the flashes over and over, trying to will them into order. But they were fragments—blurry and slippery. His head throbbed from the effort. Eventually, sleep took him, heavy and dreamless.
Thanksgiving break was approaching, and plans were neatly in place. Lucas would visit home first, then fly to Rose’s for the weekend. She was excited to introduce him to her parents. “It’s perfect,” she’d said, grinning. And it was—except for the unease still lodged in Lucas’s chest.
Since the ride, the visions had haunted the corners of his mind. A gangway, a doll, muffled screams. He’d tried to rationalize them away—maybe a dream, maybe a childhood movie memory. But the logic cracked too easily. The images weren’t vague. They felt lived-in. Real. Like a door had creaked open.
Even back home, surrounded by warmth and familiarity, the memories trailed him like shadows. He caught himself staring into space at dinner, barely tasting the food. Laughter faded into background noise. His parents noticed, of course—but it was Daisy who finally approached.