She tried to reach for my hand again and I slapped her off and pushed to my feet. "That's bullshit. Stop it. I'm… I'm glad you're here, Emory. I like you. And as long as I'm here it's going to be nice to have a friend who understands. But I know you from a thousand stories—you're the sassy redhead who knows everything and likes to laugh about it. You're here to fill in the gaps for me and give me someone to be close to so I can enjoy my time without having to be careful what I say."
Her eyes widened. "Zara, you need to be very, very careful what you say. We aren't the only ones here, and if the others realize you got here through the dream…"
"Stop it! Stop trying to scare me!" I snapped.
But Emory just looked at me, pained. "I'm not. I'm trying to get you to see straight. Because what happens here is real and if you don't realize that you're going to put yourself, or someone else in danger and—"
"Stop it!"
"Zara, please, I'm not—"
