EVERY SINGLE LIGHT IN THE WHOLE GYM POPS AT THE same time, and everything goes dark for a second. Then tiny bits of glass start to fall from the ceiling; yellow sparks fly like indoor fireworks. The DJ speakers screech out squeals of feedback interference. Everyone’s screaming and running for cover. The entire place is short-circuiting.
“Lillia!”
It’s Alex, pushing his way through the crowd to the edge of the stage. He’s trying to get to me.
I’m almost to the stairs when I remember Reeve. He’s standing at the edge of the stage, looking out. His whole body is shaking.
I run back to him.
“Come on! We have to get out of here!” I grab the lapels of his suit jacket in my fists and try to pull him away from the edge. But even though I’m right in front of his face, he doesn’t see me. He’s somewhere else. I can tell, because his eyes are dead. Unfocused. He jerks free of my grip.
And then I realize. He’s having a seizure.
He shakes harder and harder, so violently I can’t hold on to him. “Stop!” I scream, falling to my knees.
Reeve plunges off the stage and onto the floor in a twisted heap. His body is in a pile on the ground, his leg bent gruesomely beneath him. He’s not moving at all. Not even blinking.
Someone screams, louder than any other voice, any other sound. So loud, it’s the only thing I hear.
