Sanctum Read Online Free PDF

squeaking out, “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
    “But not the worst segue, actually.”
    “Oh boy, here we go,” Jordan said.
    “It’s just . . . Felix said ‘follow,’ and it was . . . I don’t know. A cry for help, I think. I was sure getting away from Brookline would help him, help all of us, but that hasn’t been the case, has it? We’re still messed up and I keep wondering if maybe the only way forward is to go back. ‘You’re not finished’—that’s what the photos say, right? Well, maybe we’re not.”
    “I was worried you were going to say that,” Abby replied, pursing her lips. Her skin, ashy from an obvious lack of sleep, didn’t at all match the bright homemade paintings decorating the room behind her.
    “But not surprised,” Jordan added. Abby gave him a warning look. “What? It’s too late at night to worry about feelings and crap. Meanwhile, I’m all finished with these coordinates. Survey says ten-twenty Ellis is the first address. Thirteen-eleven Virgil is address number two. Then we’ve got nine-twenty-two Blake and finally thirty-nineteen Concord. They’re all, surprise, surprise, in spitting distance of the college.”
    “So what’s it going to be?” Dan asked, trying his best to keep the undercurrent of excitement out of his voice. “Do we forget today ever happened and hope this all goes away? Or do we see what’s behind door number two?”
    “And by door number two, you mean the place where we almost died,” Abby said. “I don’t know, Dan. What are you thinking, we’ll just waltz back onto campus with a set of directions and say, ‘Excuse me, sir, do you know why our psychotic sort-of friend might have sent us here?’” Abby took a deep breath. “I mean, no offense. I just really don’t follow.”
    For once, Jordan didn’t have anything snarky to add. He was clearly awaiting Dan’s answer, too. But Dan had thought this through already. Really, he had Sandy to thank for the inspiration—she was the one to suggest he look at other colleges.
    “How would you guys feel about a prospective students’ weekend?”
    In the dream, Dan could actually feel the heat of the flames as they spouted out in front of his face. He began to sweat, ducking the gout of fire just as it left the performer’s mouth. Then he spun to glare at the man—didn’t he see him there? But the man was laughing, wiping the fuel off his lips and slapping his thigh. The whole carnival began to tip slightly, the ground shifting under Dan’s feet. This was probably what being drunk felt like , he thought, wandering aimlessly through the striped tents.
    No, not aimlessly . . . Something was guiding his path. He didn’t know what he was heading toward, only that he had to get there. Answers. Answers to questions he was only now brave enough to ask. What if he could make his family do anything he wanted? What if mind control wasn’t magic, but science?
    He was getting closer, just barely staying upright as he left the last of the tents behind and approached a ragged stage. In his sweaty hand, Dan clutched a slip of firm paper. “Admit One.” The old coot waited for him onstage, patient, watchful. He really didn’t look like much, but appearances could be deceiving. . . .
    A shrill bell pierced the vision, and just like that the dream vanished.
    Dan sat up fast in bed, instantly dizzy. The dinging outlived the dream, and he scrambled, trying to find his phone on his bedside table. In the process, he knocked over the bottle of Benadryl, which he’d left open after taking a pill to fall asleep.
    Bleary-eyed, he found the phone next to the overturned bottle. He rolled onto his back, bringing the screen close to his face.
    Missy had texted him.
    Wish u had made it 2 the party. We all missed u!
    Dan groaned and dropped the phone back on the bedside table. He probably should have at least texted her to say happy birthday, but it had slipped his mind. Too tired to reply, he pulled the