Eleanor didn't offer comfort or rush to the bed to coddle them. She walked over to the side table, poured a glass of water from a crystal carafe, and drank it herself.
"Define 'everything,'" she asked.
Eric looked like he was about to vomit. He scrambled off the bed, his legs tangling in the sheets, and hit the floor hard on his knees. He didn't try to stand. He just stared at the carpet, his chest heaving.
"1989," Eric choked out. "We... we were there. The town. The school. The... the locker room."
"The beginning," Rudy corrected. He hadn't moved from the dresser. He watched them break down with the detachment of a scientist observing a lab rat. "You saw the foundation."
"We saw a slaughter!" Eric shrieked. His eyes darted between Rudy and Eleanor, filled with a mixture of fear and revulsion. "Those kids in the changing room... you didn't just kill them. You crushed them. You erased them like they were ants. You didn't even blink!"
He gagged, covering his mouth.
