TITLE: Angel Sight
GENRE: YA Paranormal
Three months, twelve days, and fifteen hours. I was just starting to get used to freedom again. Doctor Graham said I was cured the day he signed my release papers, but there was nothing like spotting a big fat set of wings to pour on the doubt.
Men with white wings were occasional--or they had been before my release--but the young dark-haired guy across the room was something else. His were black with a rainbow-like sheen of an oil slick. But I was just imagining him, I had to be.
Hyperventilation threatened. Cold fingers of disbelief circled my heart, my lungs, coiling and choking. I slammed my eyes shut. He can't be real, he can't. They'll send me back for this. I won't go back. I won't.
"Darlin'?" The waitress called out, her voice grating with the ease of sandpaper.
I didn't listen, didn't falter, didn't stop wishing the strange angel sitting at the counter gone.
"Darlin'?" The waitress folded her fingers over my arm, jetting my attention toward her. "You still interested in the job?"
I opened my eyes but refused to check the counter. I couldn't handle if he was still there. "Job?" The fingers, both the phantom ones around my throat and the waitress' very real ones on my arm, slacked.