The guest room is dark, too dark, and the stillness makes my skin crawl. I lie on the unfamiliar mattress with my eyes open, staring at the ceiling while the shadows shift and stretch across the walls. Every shape looks wrong. Every corner feels watched. My body refuses to relax, caught between exhaustion and fear that will not let go.
The sheets smell like detergent and expensive fabric softener, nothing like the cheap lavender spray I use at home. The mattress is too plush, the silence too absolute. It does not feel like a refuge. It feels like a place I am meant to be grateful for while my mind spirals anyway.
Adrian’s voice echoes in my mind, older memories twisted into fresh ones. The sense of being hunted sits in my chest like a cold stone.
I close my eyes, but the images only sha
