That night, sleep did not come easily. I tossed and turned, my mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions, all of them revolving around Faruk. His confession of love earlier at dinner had stirred something in me, something I didn’t want to acknowledge. It gnawed at me, tugging at the fragile walls I had built around myself to keep him out. I tried to convince myself that his words meant nothing, that he was still the same man who had killed my father, but a small part of me whispered otherwise.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under, but instead of the deep, dreamless sleep I so desperately needed, I found myself trapped in a nightmare—a vivid, terrifying re-enactment of the night that had shattered my world.
In the dream, I was hiding, crouched beneath my bed, my breath shallow and ra
