The sleep study is just supposed to be a way for Kelty Crawford to make a little extra cash to pay for her upcoming wedding. One night, one little drug, three thousand bucks. Easy money.
She should have known it was too good to be true.
Because the night of the study, Kelty has a vivid and violent dream. A man, dying in an alley. A bloody knife, next to her own hand.
And a familiar voice behind her saying, “You killed him, Kelty. You killed him.”