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“I think,” she said, “he’s finally resting.”

Chantal knew the wind was lying before it even touched her skin. chantal danielle anom dom

Anom didn’t remember dying. He remembered the feeling of dying—the cold rush, the sound of a train whistle, a girl named Chantal screaming his name. But then he woke up. Or something like waking. “I think,” she said, “he’s finally resting

“Do what?” Danielle asked.

“You called me,” Anom said, his voice like a radio losing signal. “The last cycle, I was the sacrifice. This time, I’m the memory. Don’t let Dom do it again.” ” she said