Names circled the drum slowly, live viscous alphabet soup. Meaningless, unless you happened to know them.
"Kit, I knew Thomas Mulvany."
N, O, P....
"It's hot in here."
"I thought you were cold."
"I'm suffocating now."
R, S....
"T!" Stephanie shrieked as the names began to float slowly up from the bottom of the drum.
Tabor, Tebbets, Teddley....
Temple's mouth felt dry as a ball of cotton. Stephanie laughed nervously. Now—or never. Never?