CYPRUS’ POV
.
.
“D-Dylan…” I heard her voice tremble as the name slipped from her lips, as if she were seeing him in her mind.
What was happening?! Was she hallucinating? Or were fragments of her past now surging back?
I immediately slipped the ID I took from her hands into my pocket, hiding it from view. I never imagined she would find it here—never even considered that it was still here at all.
Was it the sight of Dylan’s ID that shattered the veil over her past? Had stepping into this place—the very place where she once brought him after the plane crash before—ripped open memories long buried by whatever the Queen had done?
Had they come rushing back, unstoppable and unrelenting, simply because she dared to remember? Or it just came unexpectedly, dragging her from the depths aga
