Connor lifted the mask to his face. The porcelain was cool against his skin. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the room fell away, and he was six years old again, standing at the top of the stairs while his father’s suitcase clicked shut downstairs. A door closed. A car started. And his mother didn’t come out of the kitchen to say goodbye.
Connor turned the mask over. Inside, someone had scratched the words: Be careful what you wear. Closet Monster
“What happens to me if I put it on?” Connor lifted the mask to his face