He stumbles, catches himself on the bedside to keep from falling, and is about to answer when it feels like an invisible hand closes around his throat. He can't talk, can't move, and from the corner of his eye he can see that his hand on the bed has disappeared.

Olivia's alone, for all she knows, and he can't speak to assure her it's not true.

His heart rate picks up enough to make breathing hard, not just with adrenaline. Fear. There's no struggle to make. It's like he's eyes suspended in nothingness, even if he tries to thrash against whatever holds him still and invisible. He can't protect her. He can't even try.