Chasing fireflies
He took off running.
Meanwhile, Chloe forced herself to breathe steadily, eyes shut tight. She focused on the memory of Hunter’s kiss, real, deliberate, nothing like the clumsy pecks she’d known before. She clung to that, replaying it in her mind. His face flashed behind her closed lids, and then the light in the coffin flickered out. Panic surged. “This isn’t real,” her voice trembling. “You’re already dead. Nothing can hurt you.” She raised her voice, defiant. “You won’t break me, Callum!” Then, almost instinctively, she began to sing, an old tune, something her grandmother used to hum. The crowd, watching the screens, started cheering for her. Someone tossed in cash, and just like that, t
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