(E.L. Tessier)

"You hear them."

"Hear what?"

"Cut it out."

"No, really. Hear what?"

"The voices, stupid."

"What do they say?"

Trey glowered at me, clearly exasperated that I was maintaining the myth so many other people persecuted him with—that only he could hear the voices. But it was true. We only seemed to occupy a single reality. There were two, and his had the fuller soundtrack.

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