Page 78 of Dirty Pleasures

No. No.

I went nauseous.

Oh God. Stop.

Then, the movie shifted to small hands strangling someone with a pillow.

Stop it!!

The fucked up movie ended and then disappeared.

Finally, the ceiling returned to peacefully white.

D-did I. . .imagine that. . .or?

My heart pounded in my chest as my hands clenched into fists.

“Em,” Max whispered.

I snapped my view to him.

“Are you okay?” His eyes were wide with fear. “You’ve been staring at that ceiling for a good ten minutes and sweating like you were walking through a desert.”

“T-ten minutes?” I blinked. “That wasn’t a few seconds?”

“Hell no.”

Out of nowhere, Delphine appeared on my right and set down a glass of red liquid. “Go ahead and drink that.”

I still had my hands fisted, but now they shook. “I s-saw stuff.”

“I bet you did. Now drink.”

My mind whirled.

The room spun a little.

Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

I clenched my hands into tighter fists, forcing my nails to bite into my palms.

Hold on. Just hold on.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the room to stop its dizzying spin. Then, I focused on my breathing, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths.

Once I opened my eyes, I looked down at my hand and suddenly realized that I was holding the glass. “Who put this in my hand?”

Still standing in front of me, Delphine stared with a neutral expression. “You picked it up.”

“When?”

Maxwell studied me across the table. His eyes held concern. “Em, are you okay?”

“Max, y-you saw me pick that glass up?”

He nodded. “About five minutes ago. You’ve been holding it the whole time.”

“F-five minutes.” I blinked. “I’m. . .losing time.”