"It's not just useful for Scott or Isaac," I agree.

With Allison, it suddenly becomes easier, more acceptable, to snuggle down into my own covers. The deep charcoal comforter and ivory sheets are no different than the ones my father would have given me, though the bed is bigger and softer. My walls are still blank and austere where Allison's first order of business had been to personalize her room. I'd only seen her room blank and plain once before, matched to a time when Allison had been the same and Gerard had sought to make killers of us.

In those days, he'd forced me to mold trembling hands around a gun and tried to make me shoot.

"Bad dreams again?"