The Name in Gold

Elena didn't sleep. How could she, with the book open on her desk and the gold letters still crawling across the page like slow fire?

She had watched them arrive at dawn — first the sentence, hissing faintly as it cooled: TOMORROW, ONE OF THE THREE FRIENDS WILL NOT COME HOME. Then, beneath it, the name. One letter at a time. Each one blooming white-hot before settling into dull, terrible gold.

T…