I couldn’t sleep.
The imprint of his grip lingered on my skin like shackles, faint bruises I swore I could still feel even though I had pulled free. The glass at my back had trembled with the violence of his need, and in my ears it still shivered like a warning. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face — the hunger twisting it into something unrecognizable.
By dawn, my body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest. I stayed curled on the edge of the bed, staring at the cold light leaking through the curtains.
When the knock came, soft at first, I froze.
I didn’t answer.
It came again. Louder this time. More insistent.
“Soraya.” His voice, muffled through the wood.
I curled tighter, burying my face in my knees. Maybe if I stayed silent, he would go. Maybe if I disappeared, he’d
