That night, after the painfully tense dinner, Aisha finally returned home with a heaviness in her chest she couldn’t explain.
The house felt strangely hollow after everything that had happened—after Callen’s quiet protectiveness, Amara’s sudden cold silence, and the way the room had felt like it might collapse under unspoken tension.
Aisha tried to sleep.
She wrapped herself in her blankets, curled on her side, and told herself that tomorrow would feel normal again.
But the moment she drifted into sleep, the darkness swallowed her.
The dream began with snow.
Endless, blinding snow.
She stood in the middle of a wide, frozen clearing, her breath coming out in jagged clouds.
The air was silent—unnaturally silent—until the crunch of footsteps began circling her.
Slow.
Measured.
Pr
