The Swap

“Death is death?” Olivia mocked. “Please. You probably drank the poison because someone told you to. I’ve been with you five minutes and I can already tell you’d cry your way into the afterlife if someone glared too hard. Honestly, pathetic.” Emma bit her lower lip, trembling. “I don’t think my family will be safe with her, Honey… Darling, she’s… she’s weird.” “Call me weird one more time,” Olivia warned darkly, “and I’ll decorate your face with palm prints.” Emma turned pleadingly toward the systems, her eyes saying 'see what I mean?’ “Boohoo… you two are scary!” the bunnies squeaked together, covering their tiny faces. Olivia smirked. “Is there anything scarier than talking bunnies?” Emma groaned inwardly. Can she ever just stop talking? The thought echoed audibly in the white space, and her eyes widened in horror. Olivia’s hand flew toward her face but passed right through, as though swiping air. She staggered, regaining balance. “She tried to slap me!” Emma gasped. “Why can’t I hit