Hannah knew she was dreaming; she recognized the dream. It looked like the same familiar streets that she always walked, but there were little things that seemed… wrong. She watched the young man as he limped around the corner. He glared at another young man who greeted him.

There was something wrong about the pair. A part of her was sure there was something going on between them. The man with the limp hated the other. He seemed to blame the other for his limp.

Then she was awake; back in her own world. She looked up into the bright blue eyes of a boy only a few years older than her. “Hi, Hannah,” he greeted. “We were in school together. Remember me?”

“Emery Ballard?” she squeaked.

“Yep. Morrissey’s this way. Don’t be nervous. He’s really nice.” He chuckled and bounded down a corridor, obviously intending to lead her to her interview.

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