Zara’s POV
When I awaken, my breathing is harsh, my heart racing as I stare blindly around the room, my mind taking a few seconds to register where I am.
‘Mi Vida?’ are you OK?’ my husband’s soft voice soothes me as I glance to my right to find him crouched beside me, concern in his eyes.
‘You were thrashing around in the bed’ he tells me, ‘I couldn’t wake you! You kept saying you were sorry . . .’
I gulp down air, trying to focus on Gerrard’s voice instead of the feel of warm blood that was coating my hands in my sleep. I look down, fully expecting to see the dirty uniform I was wearing, smeared with the blood of the boy from my dream, instead I find only my naked body, clean but covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the too vivid nightmare.
‘Mi Vida?’ Gerrard calls again and I can t
