I sat up on the bed and looked at my finger—the one that I had pricked in the dream. Well, technically, it wasn’t my finger, but Clara’s. I had stopped dreaming about my life for days, since I had the one with Clara offering me tea, and the mere fact that Dorian was in this one was very telling. How affectionate he was, how loving. I was finally seeing Clara’s memories.
I had hoped to see more visions about my life. Instead, I seemed to have gotten Clara’s. Nevertheless, it had felt so real that I could still remember the sting of the needle, and the warmth of Dorian’s hands.
I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I had to wake up, or I just might confuse my reality with hers. I had to get myself together. There was still so much I have yet to learn. So far, I’ve got
