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The nights have become a battleground, a place where sleep should have been my ally, but now, it"s a luxury that eludes me. My bed feels alien, the sheets too crisp, and the silence of the room is deafening. Every creak and whisper of the wind against the window pane sends a jolt of fear through my exhausted body.
Ryker"s words, the threat of his unannounced arrival, have burrowed deep into my psyche, turning every shadow into a possible harbinger of his presence. I lie there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that it"s just the building settling, just the normal nocturnal symphony of a world I used to find comforting. But comfort is a stranger now.
The commissions, my lifeline to normalcy, are suffering. I can"t focus, can"t bring myself to sit down
