***
In the middle of the night, Ophelia was woken up abruptly. She felt her heart thudding loudly in her chest, and her forehead was matted with sweat. She reached over for the cup of water on her bedside drawer, but even after she gulped it down completely, her thirst persisted.
Groaning, she slipped out of bed and made her way over to the table. The jug was half empty, and she gulped down its contents as well before returning to the bed.
The nightmare returned to her vividly, an image she wouldn’t forget too quickly. It had felt so real, so vivid that the horror had shot through her like an arrow. When she stumbled awake, relief had flooded over her, and she was grateful that the nightmare had been just that; a nightmare.
But even now, as she sat in her bed and stared at the canop
