Tracey held him, rocked him gently. "Tell me," she whispered, and Rick's words spilled again.
“That weirdo Danes, making us do a séance. The heat! The place was on fire!" He looked across the room, reassuring himself Timmy was alright. "Fire in the room. We escaped. The passageway. Like ice! What I don’t understand is how it was so cold. And for so long.” His eyes pleaded with hers for answers. “So cold, we could have died. We should have died.”
“What I don’t understand,” Tracey said “Is that you’ve only been gone out of our apartment for ten minutes.”