"You are a sad and miserable woman. I will never forgive you for what you have done," Dylan murmured. "I don't know how to let go. I don't think I will ever escape this place."
Was this really how it would end? Dying inside the jaws of a giant spider wearing his mother's face, trapped forever in a nightmare shaped by memory and guilt.
The spider laughed, the sound sharp and broken. "That's how it should be. You will stay here with me forever. Just the two of us."
That voice, twisted and insane yet painfully familiar, began to blur as Dylan's vision faded. His eyelids grew heavy, his body slackening as exhaustion finally won.
He gave up.
Strangely, the regrets that surfaced were not about his mother, nor even about Seamus.
What haunted him most was the unanswered messages from Connor's parents, the grief-stricken cries they made when they lost their son, sounds that still echoed in his dreams.
