I shoved her away—desperation lending me strength I didn't know I had—and rushed into the main hall.
Grandma's bed had been moved to the center of the room. Lying on it was a figure soaked in blood. Barely recognizable as human.
I crept closer. The person was wearing Grandma's clothes.
My mouth fell open. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. My gaze darted around the room, searching for her familiar silhouette.
"Where is Grandma?" My voice came out thin. Childish. "I'm scared. Grandma? Grandma!"
I shouted her name, wandering aimlessly through the crowd of mourning neighbors.
Zachary Logan stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the bed. He placed a trembling hand on my head. "Your grandma is gone, child." His Adam's apple bobbed. "That... that is your grandma lying there."
He swallowed hard. "Stop looking. Go outside. You don't want to have nightmares."
A buzzing sound filled my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Even at seven, living in this house had taught me the darkness of the world. I knew what "dead" meant.
The realization hit like a physical blow.