Sleep never came.
Marrin lay awake in the dark, her mind clawing through fragments of memory — things that didn't belong to her, yet felt as real as breathing. She saw flashes of cold white rooms, sterile lights, voices murmuring over her body. The hum of machines. The echo of her own heartbeat — multiplied.
She woke with a gasp. 3:42 a.m. Her sheets were damp with sweat. The mirror across the room caught her movement, but for half a second, the reflection didn't follow.
She sat up, heart hammering. "Enough," she whispered to herself. "No more ghosts."
She went to the window, throwing it open. Cold air hit her face. Below, the city slept — indifferent and endless. But somewhere out there, Richard Reeves was alive, watching, waiting for her to make the next move.
And she would.
By mor
