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Jesse looked down at his hands. They were softening. The lines on his palms were fading, becoming smooth, like dough. His fingernails had turned translucent.

Jesse tried to scream. What came out was a soft, wet sigh. soft restaurant full crack

"I'm looking for someone," he said. His own voice sounded too loud, too sharp—like breaking glass in a library. Jesse looked down at his hands

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"Can I help you?" she whispered. Her voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The sound vibrated in Jesse's teeth. wet sigh. "I'm looking for someone

The whisper grew louder. Shhhhh. Shhhhhh.

And everyone was whispering. Not words—a low, continuous shhhh , like a radio playing static between stations.